


Such Small Scenes

by Daimhin



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Kinktober 2019, Light Dom/sub, Slow Build, Smut, Some Plot, Some non-smut chapters, Specific kinks tagged in author’s notes by chapter, Strangers to Lovers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-01
Updated: 2020-05-24
Packaged: 2020-10-14 19:36:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 39,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20606189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daimhin/pseuds/Daimhin
Summary: Luna is a businesswoman with limited sexual experience and far too much stress. Ignis is the male escort she hires to help her with that.





	1. Rope

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The plot is fast and loose; the smut varies in explicitness.  
Not following any specific list.  
Any relevant tags/warnings will be noted per chapter.  
No gore, but some darker themes.  
I find this rarepair needlessly charming. ❤️  
**Warning** for a distinct lack of smut in this first part (clearly very bad at this kink thing, sorry!), and Luna taking initiative.

She’d found him, most uninspired really, on a less frequented street in the city. He hadn’t been offering himself there, only walking. She’d originally seen him in the upscale hotel restaurant where she usually took business clients. He was often there, smiling at someone, always looking captivated even though he was always, by far, the most captivating thing in the room.

When she’d found him, he’d clearly turned himself off. He had a scarf bundled around his neck, obscuring his chin and mouth. She’d not let herself think about it before stopping on her drive home. She’d parked, gotten out, and called after him. It hadn’t seemed polite to match his walking pace with that of her car, to call out of an open window.

She knew what he was, but she still thought it rude.

He’d stopped and turned to her, a brow quirked in question. His hair, normally so perky, so perfectly in its ‘do before he disappeared into the hotel with the night’s guest of honor, was tousled now. Strands fell over his forehead while the rest maintained itself in a slowly flattening pomp.

“Would you come home with me?” She couldn’t believe she’d said the words, couldn’t believe she’d been lucky enough to see him outside the hotel —where they both entertained, in a way— or that she’d recognized him on this cold night.

He hooked the heavy scarf with his index finger, pulling it down to reveal the perfect bow of his lips. “I’m not taken to going home with strangers, miss.”

Oh, but she knew better. The hotel wasn’t his home, sure, but he could hardly play the gentleman. She would’ve smiled if this situation weren’t so strange already.

“If you have the time,” she said, tilting her head toward her car. “I have the money.”

He looked at his watch before walking her way. He introduced himself as Ebony before he got into her car. She’d heard the line so many times.

_ “Ebony. A pleasure to meet you.” _

In the hotel restaurant, she’d never heard him say it while getting the chance to watch it leave his mouth. She either spotted him across the room, attention catching at the way his lips would move as he spoke, or she would be close enough to hear him, unable to look his way for fear of drawing attention to herself.

No respectable person looked a prostitute in the eyes. It was a shame; his were beautiful.

⁂

She wasn’t prepared for a visitor. Her place was clean because Ravus had recently dropped by, but the nature of her request had her slightly on edge. Ebony slid out of his scarf and coat as she coursed through, turning on lights.

Lucky that Ravus had taken Umbra and Pryna to mother’s, she thought. She stopped in her round of the place, facing Ebony in the foyer. He’d taken off his shoes without prompting, a pleasant surprise. She’d never done this, and, by the patient look on his face, he could tell.

“How shall we begin?” He held the scarf over an arm, his hip cocked, that charming smile coming to his face.

It made her ease, and she took the scarf from him, draping it over the coat rack where his jacket hang as she walked away, lifting a hand in a small wave. “This way, please.”

He followed without question. The sound of their bare feet plodding against the hardwood floors ricocheted off the walls of the otherwise silent place. She peeked back over her shoulder curiously, catching him taking in the decor with sharp eyes. Astrals, she didn’t know what she was doing, letting a stranger into her home this way.

Her bedroom held everything. A bed too large for one, a wardrobe to get lost in, and a vanity in front of which she spent most of her time practicing speeches. When she waved Ebony to her bed, he sat, one long leg crossed over the other. He watched her with continued patience.

She went to her closet and came away with a curled length of rope. She’d never used it, had only purchased it a week or so prior. Pinching her lips between her teeth, she felt an unfamiliar nervousness. Unwilling to show hesitation, she asked, “Are you comfortable with being bound?”

Ebony tilted his head, a hand coming to rest flat on her bed. “My comfort isn’t of importance.”

Her hands tightened around the coiled rope. “Yes it is. Are you willing to do what I wish?”

“What exactly would that be?” He lifted a hand, palm up. His smile had returned. “I’m unopposed to being tied. Or tying up another.”

Luna found herself smiling back, reassured. “Good. Would you undress for me? Your shirt would suffice.”

He rolled his broad shoulders, his hands coming to the hem of his sweater. In a slow pull over his torso, he followed her direction without question. The rope slackened in her hands. She was caught off guard by the defined muscle he’d had hidden underneath. His stature was nothing to cough at, and his jawline was as sharp as his eyes, but she couldn’t have been prepared for his body.

Or his direct but polite nature.

“Where would you have me?” he asked as he stood, placing his sweater on the bed.

Luna pointed at the floor. “Get on your knees.”

He complied, long fingers brushing back the tawny locks that fell into his eyes. She uncoild the rope, testing its strength with a few hard pulls before bending to wrap it around his wrists. It was more muscle memory than anything, her fingers tightening and twisting the braided string around his wrists and up his forearms. She’d learned this as a girl when she’d been a unicorn scout. She knew close to a hundred different ways she could have Ebony completely at her mercy. With each pull of the rope, she felt her stress burn away. No thoughts of work, of social responsibility, of Nyx.

A sudden gasp escaped Ebony, his eyes watching her hands pull hard at the knot that tightly bound his wrists.

She paused, looking from his face to the rope. “Are you alright?”

He looked up to meet her eyes. “Could be tighter.”

She kept eye contact, pulling the rope more taut. “Good?”

He rose a brow instead of answering. “Is this all you plan to do with me? Have me defenseless and on my knees?”

Luna tilted her head, her hands leaving the rope as she considered him. Sex was off the table. In fact, everything was. For now. This had been too sudden. She wanted more but _ what, _ she didn’t know.

She stood. “Stay there.”

She read the entirety of the speech she’d most recently penned.

To his credit, Ebony seemed to listen. His only question, once she finished, was, “that is meant to be motivational?”

Blinking at him, she crumpled the paper slightly. “Yes. Why?”

Ebony seemed to think on his response. His green eyes went to the ceiling. The skin at his wrists and arms reddened as he kept shifting and pulling against the binds. “There is too much data. Dumping it throughout the speech is distracting.”

“It’s to remind them of why they should stay motivated.”

“Shouldn’t they already be aware? The spirit of it means more than the facts behind it.”

Biting her lip, Luna looked at the speech for a stretch of time. When he took a breath, seeming about to speak, she hushed him. Was he right? She’d been struggling to motivate as of late. She thought about it as she unbound him.

“This…” He rubbed at the light red marks on his skin, then reached for his sweater. “Was unorthodox.”

Luna focused on curling the rope.

“You needn’t have tied me up in order to listen to your speech,” he said. “Though dry, it wasn’t unbearable.”

She huffed a soft laugh, watching him put the sweater back on. “That hadn’t been my plan.”

Ebony smoothed his sweater over his broad chest. “Oh? Had I been too quick in dressing?”

Luna took the rope back to her closet. “No. I’ve no further requests tonight.”

“Tonight?”

She turned around to face him. “Would you return tomorrow?”

He touched one of the thick bed posts that supported the canopy that she faced on her more restless nights. His charming smile had returned. “Do you have another speech for me to sit through?”

She couldn’t help the roll of her eyes, feeling comfortable enough to admit, “I’d like to whip you. Would that be too much?”

He rested a hand on his hip, completely unbothered by the suggestion. It was making her reel.

“I’m certainly more accustomed to that than poorly written speeches.”

She scoffed. “Alright, Ebony. It’s been lovely, but you must go.”

“Tomorrow, then?”

She nodded, already showing him out of her bedroom. “Tomorrow.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know if the formatting is atrocious. I can’t decide if I love or hate it lmao


	2. Spanking

Ebony arrived at the exact time as promised. Like before, he questioned nothing ordered his way. Luna had been emboldened to tell him what she’d wanted to do to him before, but now she stood with him in her bedroom, once again feeling the peculiar sting of uncertainty as he undressed.

She’d given him her last paper hundred the night before, so she’d had to pick up cash on her way home. That and a whip. She knew what she wanted to do with him but continued to be ill prepared.

Braided in thick leather, the whip was heavier in her hand than expected. She suddenly wished she’d gotten a crop instead. This felt like a leap, like going to the greatest end of the spectrum of what could be used to inflict pain on a person. What if she truly hurt him?

Down to only his undergarments, Ebony hitched a hand at his hip in that quickly growing familiar way. His clothes were neatly piled on the foot of her bed. He was a long, lean man, and she’d yet to decide if she liked the way he looked at her. “Not going to bind me this time?”

One hand on the whip’s handle, she slid the other down the length of it, feeling the tight, twisting braids with her fingertips. “No.”

He didn’t press, waiting as she examined the whip. She bit her lip, then looked up at him. “Lie on the bed.”

As he listened, hiking up a knee before crawling onto the plush surface, she took in the length of his legs, the creamy skin of his thighs, the way he looked back at her curiously. He rested on his stomach, head propped up by an elbow.

Luna swallowed.

She put the whip on the end of the bed, next to his clothes, climbing up to join him. She grew close enough that her knees touched his side. Her hands came to rest flat on his back. His skin was warm against her palms, and, as she began to slide them slowly over the muscles of his back, she caught the soft way his breath hitched. Her fingers traced up his spine, hands parting at his shoulder blades and mapping out every curve of him on their way back down. He let out a light, pleased sound.

“Wasn’t anticipating a massage,” he said quietly, his head falling to rest on his forearm. The arm that was nearest to her rose, his hand catching one of hers at his hip. “Lovely as it is. I feel as though you’re stalling.” He wasn’t looking at her, and his words kept getting lost in her bedsheets, muted and indistinct.

“Why the impatience?” She pulled her hand from his loose grip. “I’m paying you by the hour.”

Finally lifting his head again, Ebony looked at her with lidded eyes. His lips were pulled into a smirk, different from the usual. “You want me, so take me.”

His hair was coiffed today, perfectly untousled. She wondered if she was his only client for the day, or perhaps only the first of many. She was sure she certainly wasn’t the first person he’d used these words on.

Shifting on her knees, she touched the waistband of his pants. Already, she had a perfect view of his ass, the fabric thin and tight. Dipping fingers underneath the band, she tugged at them, and he lifted just enough to get them pulled down. She stopped before removing them too far, right before her eyeline met his upper thighs. Her hands left it that way, lifting to linger in the air above him.

He chuckled, the sound deep and a little startling. “Nervous?”

She blinked, lowering her hands to his pants again and drawing them down farther. Dark pink peeked at her from between his thighs, and she made herself look at his face. She wasn’t nervous; she just didn’t want to be met with his balls so soon, so casually.

His smirk was now accompanied by an arched brow. “Need a hand?”

She dug a knee into his side, one of her hands urging him up at the hip. He rose enough for her to slide her knees under him. She smoothed a hand delicately over a cheek, cupping him with soft fascination. Resting on her lap this way, he felt more tangible than before. He was  _ here _ and at her disposal.

“You can’t be in so much awe,” he spoke up. “It’s hardly my finest feature.”

He was far more talkative tonight, something she neither expected nor appreciated. When she heard him take in a breath, she lifted her hand and brought it down before he could speak again. Skin meeting in a swift strike, she looked to his face.

Lips parted, he continued to watch her over his shoulder but remained quiet.

She spanked him again, harder this time. His skin reddened further with each repetition, warmed by her hand. She gave each side equal attention, her free hand resting at the small of his back. Something poured out of her, delivering her worries to new places, easing away and lightening her.

Hand at ease for a moment, she gently touched the reddened skin with the tips of her fingers, then her palm. It radiated warmth, and he breathed a little heavier, his head once again falling to rest on his forearm. She rubbed a smooth circle over each cheek, then slapped again, the hardest so far. He gave a low moan, muffled by her bedsheets. It drove her to repeat the action. Her free hand roamed his back, his sides, appreciating whatever it reached while the other struck him relentlessly.

The sting of her hand was minor, pulsing along with him every time she took a moment to rest and feel her effect on his body. When she finished, feeling satisfied in a way she couldn’t place--what was she  _ doing _ with this stranger?-- she dug fingers into the tender, flushed skin and squeezed. He hissed, and she eased, using a gentler touch.

The hole left by the release of her stress was slowly giving way to a soft need, budding at her core. She continued to caress his hot skin, letting the feeling linger and grow without attention.

He sat up when she removed herself from the bed. She felt his eyes follow her as she picked up the whip and took it to her closet. No comment left him about her not using it, but she could feel it in his prolonged stare.

“We’re finished for tonight,” she said, curling and loosening the hand she’d used to spank him. It was red and warm. Her chest was light, the apex between her thighs growing damp. Too many new things at once.

He nodded, getting up from her bed. She blinked at the more obvious—and otherwise unknown—effect she’d had on him as he corrected his pants. Unbothered by the half erection, he rounded her bed and began to dress.

Face growing red, she rose a hand to her mouth, then dropped it, immediately reminding herself what she’d just spent the last half hour doing. Looking away, she flexed her hand again. “Tomorrow?”

He hummed an affirmative. “Same time?”

She nodded, looking at him in time to catch him glancing at her. His fingers were still busy buttoning up his shirt.

“I do provide other services,” he said with a tilt of his head. His eyes, always sharp, analyzed her face. “Perhaps you would benefit more by joining a BDSM community.”

Luna crossed her arms. “That isn’t your concern.”

He rolled a shrug over his broad shoulders as easily as he seemed to do most things. When his collar was perfectly in place a moment later, she left the room with him at her heels. He slipped his payment into his wallet, and Luna lingered to see him out. She leaned against the archway between the foyer and her living room, watching him put on his shoes.

“I noticed you’ve no name placard on your postbox,” he said, startling her a little. She opened her mouth to tell him that it, much like everything else about her, was none of his business, but he caught her expression just as he righted himself. “It’s merely a precaution after my own safety. What should I call you?”

Luna stood down, relaxing into her lean again. She thought about an online handle she’d used ages ago, something close to the heart that no one she knew anymore would recognize. Something she’d used when she’d been a different person.

“Stella.”

With a polite bow, he smiled again, much less a smirk this time. “A pleasure, Stella.”

She wondered why he hadn’t taken her hand to gently kiss it after saying that. She’d seen him do it countless times in the hotel restaurant. Must not’ve wanted his mouth on a hand that had been so punishing only minutes before. Luna dispelled all thoughts on it as she gave him a quiet goodbye.

Her apartment fell into silence when he left, and for the first time in a very long time, she felt like a ghost, walking from one room to another in her white negligee.


	3. Blindfold

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Warning** for temperature play, masturbation, dirty talk (all mild).  
<strike>I want her to start calling him Ignis already, but it's not time.</strike>

Luna had to make absolutely sure the blindfold actually obfuscated vision. She’d tested it that afternoon, sitting alone in her office at work. She’d just given the speech to motivate her team—Ebony had made fair points—and was full with confidence. With the black slip of silken fabric over her eyes, she’d accidentally knocked things off her desk until her assistant came in to check on her. She’d ripped it off, startled by the younger woman’s voice.

Uncertainty wasn’t something Luna was very familiar with. That was part of why Ebony excited her. Not so much him as the avenues he was opening up in her life. Or so she hoped.

She’d curled the blindfold in a hand, the other coming up to straighten her bangs. She’d assured her assistant that she was fine.

_ “A minor sensory deprivation exercise, you see.” _

And it certainly would be, but not for her.

⁂

He lay in full splendor on her bed. All that remained covered were his eyes and what _ very little _ coverage his undergarments provided. She felt as though he were teasing her, wearing sheer pants when he knew, from their previous night, it unsettled her to see him so bare, so suddenly.

Now there was nothing left to the imagination. Her eyes traced the curve of it, the length that rested against his right thigh. Soft but visible under the barely-there fabric.

She pulled the ropes at his wrists tighter, making sure they were in place. His head shifted as if attempting to look around, lips parting with light breaths. Anticipation. She tightened each wrist more, just for good measure, then moved on to his ankles, tethering him securely to her bed by the heavy posts that made up each corner.

His feet were large and impeccably clean. Luna thought about Nyx’s feet, how rough they’d been. The smell of his boots after returning from work. How much she’d hated that. She closed her eyes and shook her head. No sense in rehashing such old thoughts.

With Ebony now completely at her mercy, she rested back on her knees at the foot of her bed, taking in the sight of him as a whole. The hair on his legs was soft and slightly curled, and she ran her fingers over it, across his ivory skin, as she began to crawl up the bed. His leg jerked when she skimmed fingertips up his knee, brushing his inner thigh with a feather-light touch.

She paused there, leaning over him with one hand propped on the bed, the other hovering above his leg. Again, she brushed fingertips over his inner thighs, stopping just before meeting his pitiful excuse for pants. Again, his leg jerked. This time, he let out a light sigh.

“Tickling me, are you? You didn’t warn me of—”

“Hush,” she ordered quietly, skimming her palms over his outer thighs, then up his hips. Just as she imagined, his pants were glossy to the touch. She couldn’t help the lingering look at what he had to offer. Prideful and vexing that he would want to display himself so fully.

Very much deserved pride. Very.

There were beauty marks of varying sizes across his stomach. Her fingers coursed over them, one by one. She traced his navel, his lower abdomen decorated with a small constellation that she rather liked. The dips in his skin held lean muscle, and when she braced her hand on his abs to push herself upward to explore more of him, his abdomen tightened. He flexed underneath her, pulling against his restraints.

She seated herself on his upper thighs, splaying hands on his broad chest. He was flawless. Her eyes raked over him in appreciation, taking in the way the soft hair above his nape flared on her pillows in little tufts and stuck to the curve of his neck.

Sweat lined him softly. It was rather warm in her flat. She’d gotten cold and turned up the heat while waiting for him to arrive. Tenebrae’s brief summer had already given way to chill autumn weather even though August had just begun.

She climbed off of him, leaving the bed to dip a hand into the bowl that sat on one of her bedside tables. An ice cube, slightly melted, was slippery in her hand when she grabbed it out. Water dripped through her fingers, wetting her bedspread as she returned to once again straddle his thighs.

The ice nipped at her fingers as she moved it from one hand to the other. She carefully pressed it against his stomach. He sucked in a quick breath, the muscle jerking. Beginning at his navel, she slid the ice over his skin, from one beauty mark to another. He shifted underneath her as she traveled over him. His breaths were heavy pants cutting the quiet air.

The slowly melting cube left wet streaks on his skin that she smeared with her other hand. Circling a nipple with the ice, she watched it grow pert. It reddened with more attention, and she lifted the ice to lower her head and blow a gentle breath on the hardened nub. He jolted under her, saying nothing but working his jaw with a quiet hiss.

Leaning farther into him, she flicked her tongue over his nipple in a move of curiosity. It was cold, the moisture from the melted ice tasting faintly of rose water, something she’d added when she realized what she wanted to use him for. A part of her wished she’d been of a mind enough to have done it the first night.

Licking him again, she was met with a low moan drawn from him. His chest rocked heavily, her mouth warming his cold skin as she closed her mouth over the nub and sucked. Tongue circling, she felt a swell of want begin to burn in her stomach. With cold, wet fingers, she smoothed what remained of the ice over his chest and up his collarbones.

He shivered, his body pulling against the restraints. She looked up in time to see him lick his lower lip, heavy breaths falling out of him. Shifting her body upward, she felt how hard he’d gotten beneath her. It was strikingly hot against her thigh. Not allowing herself to look at it, she pressed her weight into him and began to follow the wet trails of the ice with her tongue and lips.

Skin sticky with rose water, saliva, and sweat, he writhed at her touch. She felt the want burn deeper, and she smiled against his skin, her teeth grazing the juncture between his shoulder and neck. Sliding her leg harder into him, she pressed her thigh against his erection. Her nose skimmed up his neck, and she moved upward again, brushing her leg along his length before fully straddling him. The ice had melted, and her cold hands rested against her pillows, wetting the space on either side of his head.

“Should I ride you?” she whispered, her face just above his. The words left her from a place within she didn’t know she had, foreign on her tongue.

“Is that what you wish?” It was more of a shuddered breath out of him than anything.

“Perhaps.” She leaned back to grind against him. The want exploded in sensation, engulfing her core. “That must be what you want, arriving here in such flimsy undergarments.”

He pulled harder at his restraints. “I come prepared.”

Luna kept herself from rolling her hips a second time, feeling herself clench at the way he bucked up against her. With hands moving to press firmly at his chest, she held him down and tisked.

“You’re sorely mistaken,” she said, thighs tightening around his hips. “Coming is precisely what you won’t be doing. Not tonight.”

She slid one hand up his wet collar, cupping his jaw softly. Another lean down, she held his head in place this way. His breaths hit her lips as she spoke.

“I’m going to pleasure myself. I’d wanted for you to watch, but…” She rolled her hips against him, distinctly feeling how much harder he’d gotten. He tensed, his wrists and hands red from fighting the ropes that bound him. She reveled in this control. “Such a tease that you are, you may only imagine it.”

Hand leaving his face, she smoothed it down his torso, just barely grazing his cock before sliding her hand into her panties. They were already damp, her fingers meeting wet heat and sparking pleasure at the first gentle touch. The tip of her middle finger rounded the bud of her clit in an easy, familiar motion, coiling warmth in her core.

“If only you could feel how wet I am for you,” she whispered, her own breaths picking up as she slid a finger inside. Her hand braced at his chest began to shake, her arm weakening for a moment while she pushed another finger in, curling them together. She moved her hips in conjunction with her fingers, riding herself, using him as a prop.

Arched over him this way, she imagined sinking onto him. She imagined untying him so he could bring his large hands to her hips and draw her to him in hard jerks of muscle. He panted beneath her, his cock straining, being teased by her shifting body above.

She climaxed sooner than she was used to, her eyes squeezing shut, converse to her surprise, as she tightened around her fingers. Falling forward, she rested her forehead at his chest, her heart racing. Her hand left her panties, the remnants of the orgasm shaking down her legs to her toes.

He tensed underneath her, his abs working as he leaned his head up. She remained still, sudden clarity hitting her and bringing immediate light to her situation. Swallowing down the bit of embarrassment that rose up from her chest and into her throat, she pushed away from him.

“A moment,” she breathed, warmth coming to her face. The sight of him hard and laying prone, tied to her bed, only deepened the flush as she went to her bathroom. Placing a hand over her rapidly beating heart, she looked at herself in the mirror. Strands of her pale hair stuck to her sweaty neck, and her skin was kissed pink from her cheeks down to her exposed cleavage.

Her hand fell to her side, and she slowly smiled at her reflection. She didn’t recognize the woman looking back at her, but she was... okay with this. She felt a spark of excitement at this new development. She felt free. She felt new. She— she still had a man tied up in her bed.

Brushing hair behind her ears, she schooled the smile, then returned to Ebony, content to watch him squirm underneath her for a bit longer.


	4. Gag

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Warning** for edging, Luna trying out more dominance, and orgasm denial.

Luna didn’t have time to buy a proper gag on her way home from work. She’d stayed late to finish reports, and her neighbor had gotten an especially long look at Ebony standing on her stoop before she arrived.

“Have you no sense of discretion?” She crossed her arms, watching him undress in the privacy of her bedroom.

He chuckled, and she liked the sound. She didn’t like that she liked the sound.

“She thought me your boyfriend.”

Shoulders rising, Luna tightened her arms over her modest chest. “You allowed her to think that?”

Another chuckle, and she loosened her arms to hitch a hand at her waist, masking her irritation under a demeanor of practiced calm.

With a short glimpse toward her over his shoulder, his laugh tapered, and he gently cleared his throat. “Is that not preferable to the truth?”

She blinked at the suggestion, blue eyes widening slightly. It was a fair point— her neighbor was kindly, and she didn’t want to add a strange element to their acquaintanceship— oh— but— She lifted a hand to rub at her temple. What was a prostitute who made good points? What was a prostitute who considered his client’s personal affairs?

All thoughts halted when Ebony removed the last of his clothes. He stepped out of his jeans, turning around to face her in nothing but his pants. They weren’t sheer this time, but that hardly mattered. They were going to be put to use another way.

⁂

Walking out of her bathroom with a bottle of lotion, she looked at him sitting on her bed. She’d bound his wrists behind his back and gagged him with his pants. They were just elastic enough to stretch and be tied at the back of his head, the fabric caught between his teeth and cutting a red line across his cheeks.

He sat on his knees, watching her approach. There was no arousal about him, but he seemed relaxed, his gaze more curious than anything.

Shamelessly, she looked down at the length of him bared for her, resting between his thighs. Eyes flicking up to his, she climbed onto the bed and sat in front of him. The lotion she’d brought was luxurious, and she used it specifically for those freshly-shaven-legs kind of days.

She smoothed it over her palms, rubbing it between her hands before sliding the tip of a finger down his stomach. He shuddered lightly at the touch, but remained mostly steady. His eyes were so sharp, so careful in the way they traced her. She met them equally, her fingertips touching the base of his cock. The hair there, light and so clearly well groomed, tickled her fingers.

His jaw relaxed when she grasped him in hand, his bite on the gag loosening. Oily and slick from the lotion, her palm slid over the length of him easily. He wasn’t entirely hard but twitched in her hand. The head of his cock was unbelievably soft, making her look down to watch the way her palm brushed over it. Bringing the index finger of her other hand to the little slit at the tip, she rubbed a soft circle around it, strangely fascinated.

It came to life in her hands, her curiosity caressing it into a rigid state— so few dicks had she actually deigned to touch in her life. Ebony’s chest expanded with heavy breaths, his eyes downward, his teeth clenching on the gag again. Luna held his cock between her hands, unmoving and waiting. The way he tensed in her hand was powerful; she wanted to devour the feeling.

She wanted to devour— him.

But not today.

Smoothing and sliding hands over the length of him, she let herself appreciate every vein, every sinewy fiber, the thick weight of it, the discoloration of the skin. Until her palms began to stick, to pull with every jerk of her hands over him. The lotion had rubbed in and dried, and now the tip of his cock was beading with precum, and he was gnashing at the gag she’d improvised.

She kept going, letting the skin pull taut under her fingers. The pad of her thumb flattened the slow drip of clear, sticky cum and smeared it over the feathersoft glans. It was pink, a touch darker than his skin elsewhere, and the poetic side of her painted a mental picture of flowery metaphors. Of him blooming in her hands and growing in the warmth of her touch.

She squeezed him with both hands, halting these thoughts, and began to work him in earnest. The twisting jerks of her hands made him bite the gag harder. His strong jaw tensed, white teeth peeking through perfect lips.

“Have something to say, Eb?” She tightened her grip and drew her hand over him faster.

His breath hitched, and he arched forward. He said something, too muffled by the gag for her to catch.

“Oh?” One of her hands left him to press him by the shoulder. With every pump of her hand, he grew closer to leaning into her. “Tell me what you want.”

His shoulders rocked, his hands pulling hard at the restraints on his wrists. He chewed against the gag, attempting to speak again. Still, it came out as nothing more than a low moan, drawn from somewhere deep in his chest.

Luna dug her nails into his shoulder, suddenly slowing her hand on his cock. She took in the picture of him, flush and coming apart at her simple touch. The light sheen of sweat on his face and body, the unsteady rock of his chest and shoulders, the sharp eyes that now watched her with lidded pleasure— she squirmed at the power.

More precum dripped from him, slicking against the slow pull of her hand. His cock twitched in a hard movement, and she shook her head.

“You don’t have permission to come yet.”

His eyes shifted between her own, green burning holes into her. He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing thickly.

She let go of his shoulder to brush back the strands of his hair that had fallen loose over his forehead. A smile came to her face, her touch painfully gentle.

“Unless you beg for it,” she said, fingertips trailing down is jaw while the other hand slid over his cock harder. “You only need to ask nicely, Eb.”

He closed his eyes, groaning through the gag. When he leaned forward this time, she let him rest his forehead on her shoulder, his body shuddering at her touch. His voice was deep and unintelligible, and her smile grew.

She burned wet and hot between her thighs. Her free hand drew around him, resting at his nape. The tilt of her head brought her lips to the hollow of his ear.

“No? Pity.” She let go of his cock abruptly. He groaned again, his hips bucking forward slightly. It was her turn to chuckle, and it tasted sweet leaving her in soft peals. “That will be all tonight.”

Breaths hitting her collar in heavy pants, he slumped a little to gather himself. She felt the press of him, searing with heat and want, at her stomach. Thighs pressed together firmly, she closed her eyes and sat with him that way, depriving herself in turn.

She didn’t know why.

⁂

He didn’t speak until he was putting on his coat. Luna lit candles, partly to get rid of the smell of his sweat, mostly because she wanted to romance herself once he left.

“Given me a nickname?”

She looked up from the pumpkin scented wax she’d just lit, confusion overtaking her. “Pardon?”

He cocked his head. “You called me Eb.”

She bit her bottom lip lightly. Had she? Flicking the long matchstick, a trail of wispy smoke following its tip, she gave him a small smile. She liked nicknames. She’d never been allowed to have one. Always Lunafreya. She’d tried _ Freya _ once. Mother didn’t approve. She was Dr. Nox Fleuret at work. She was Lunafreya with family— Ravus would call her Luna when he wasn’t in a foul mood. Nyx had called her Princess, once or twice.

“Does it offend you?”

He returned the smile, lifting his heavy scarf to wrap around his neck. “Hardly. Such a thing— I’m merely unfamiliar with it.”

Somehow, that was comforting to hear. Something they had in common, then. She threw the spent matchstick into a bin, following him to the door. “Goodnight, Eb.”

She leaned in her open doorway as he walked down the stoop. His speech was muffled from the scarf, but she made it out clearly.

“And you, Stella.”


	5. Hair

Luna could still feel it, his breath at the nape of her neck, the lingering hand at the small of her back that fell away with just a bit too much brushing of his fingers against her backside. He was her temporary mentor, sent from a sister company based in Niflheim.

He didn’t call her _ sweetheart _ or give her obvious onceovers, but the unneeded compliments on her _ absolutely enthralling blouse_—that she realized too late showed a touch too much cleavage for a man as tall as he—the condescension in his voice, masked by charm, was strikingly clear to her.

He was only mentoring her for a week. The late nights in the office, the unnecessary touching, the breaches in her personal space— she’d endure it for that long.

Ebony arrived late, that’s to say perfectly on time, and she was spared from small talk. Briefly.

She could still feel his breath at her neck.

Her heels barely off before she let Ebony into her apartment, she grabbed the lapel of his coat. His hair was tousled and loose today. Her front door closed behind him with a loud thud, pulled shut by the chill early autumn wind. It smelled like dried leaves and damp earth.

She looked up at him and wondered if his hair looked the way it did because of the wind or if he’d seen enough of his other clients that his usual style had been worn flat.

She could still feel his breath.

Tugging on Ebony’s lapel, she drew him down to her. At first, he relented, green eyes staring down at her with careful consideration. But then, he was gripping her shoulder and gently prying her hand away. He held her back, and her puckered lips flattened, tucked between her front teeth with sudden regret. She pulled back, shrugging off his hand and lowering her own.

“I don’t kiss my clients,” he said, simply but seriously.

Freeing her lips, she nodded and pulled at the end of her hair. Pulled up in a thick braid, it was frayed and dry from the weather, much like her nerves after the long day.

“To your bedroom?”

She nodded again, leaving him to finish taking off his coat and shoes. He knew where to go. Sitting on the end of her bed, she rubbed her neck and sighed.

She could still feel—

⁂

Not having entirely gathered herself by the time he stepped into her bedroom, she rose from her place on the bed and walked to her closet. The ropes. The whip. The blindfold. She had a vibrator, but that was for _ her. _ Nothing seemed appropriate for what she needed this time.

She took a deep breath, hands braced on the doors of her wardrobe. A legitimate trip to a sex shop was needed. Not the in-and-out, after work rush to purchase a sudden curiosity like she’d been doing. Closing the doors, she took another breath. Practiced calm. None of these thoughts were helping her _ now. _ Facing him, she clasped her hands in front of her, still lost in thought.

He sat on the edge of her bed, crossing one long leg over another. Waiting. His patient expression and considerate silence bade her to step toward him. She wanted to unravel, but she didn’t want to be touched.

“Sit on the floor with me.”

Lowering to her knees, she began to pull at the pins and the tie that held her hair in place. It fell loose over her shoulders, covering her neck. As she ran fingers through the blonde tresses, teasing out small knots, she watched him get down from the bed, sitting directly in front of her.

“Uncross your legs,” she ordered softly, pleased when he immediately obeyed. His legs rested at each side of her, covered in a dark denim. She dropped her hands to his knees. “I trust you’ll tell me the second I may make you uncomfortable, Eb.”

He nodded once, resting back against her bed. “Same for you, of course.”

She eased, tension she hadn’t even realized she’d had rolling off of her shoulders. The relaxation coursed down her arms, made her hands splay on his knees before sliding up his thighs. His jeans were high quality, and when her hands worked at the button and zipper, the sound of it ripping open was satisfying.

He bulged in his pants even though he was soft, and she tilted her head up to meet his eyes with minor hesitation. Her hair, wavy and messy from the braid, fell over her shoulder. He lifted a hand to brush it behind an ear. Her fingers played with the waistband of his pants while his own slowly delved into her pale tresses.

She saw him nod, the slightest movement of his head before her eyes closed. The tips of his fingers gently carded through her hair, brushing the rest of it back over her shoulder. The sensation of it sent a delightful shiver down her neck.

Eyes slowly opening, she freed him from his confines. Gentle in motion, she smoothed a hand over the length of him. Even soft, it was weighty in her hand. She glazed her hands around him, taking a firm grasp and drawing them in a slow pull from base to tip.

As she worked him into a hard state, watching it come to life, he kept his fingers tangled in her hair. His nails lightly scratched her scalp, his hand curling and pulling as his cock grew harder under her attention. Her breath hitched, pleasantly surprised by the slight points of pain.

A bead of precum formed on the tip of him, and she leaned down, licking it off with the swipe of her tongue. She swirled the salty taste of it around her mouth, then dipped her tongue out to flick at the head again. Eyes flicking upward, she took him into her mouth—just the tip—and met his gaze. Lidded but focused, he stared down at her. His chest heaved with heavy breaths, and the sight of it urged her on.

She took more into her mouth, enjoying the power she had over him. For this moment, for as long as she paid, she _ owned _ him. He lifted his other hand to her head, trailing fingers through her blonde locks. Encouraged, she traced a vein along his shaft with her tongue, taking him in completely. A low sound rumbled from his chest, and she closed her lips around him, hollowing her cheeks in a hard suck.

His hands played in her hair, soft touches that became a harder grip when she languidly drew him out of her mouth. Lips around the head of his cock, tongue circling, she kept looking up at him, intent to watch every reaction. The closer he grew to the edge, the more elated she felt. How he gave this to her, she didn’t need to understand. She basked in it, plunging him into her mouth and slicking her tongue around him again.

Building a steady tempo, she let saliva slip through her lips, dripping down his shaft. It slid between her fingers, heated and wet. She’d craved this—craved _ something_—all day, and his salty skin satisfied. Content to close her eyes again, she felt more than saw his unraveling. He jerked in her hands and mouth, a size that would normally intimidate her. She was petite, and Eb was— he—

She moaned around him when he pulled at her hair. His hands were careful, fingers curling _ just so _ to make her aware of her effect on him. She’d forgotten what this was like. To let someone touch her this way. An invited invasion. She’d also forgotten how it felt to have her mouth around a person’s entire world.

Because, surely, that’s all a man was.

Her teeth grazed him, and he hissed, his fingers pulling tighter. His cock pulsed in her mouth, and, instinctively, she drew back, letting him fall free. A line of saliva followed, breaking only when she wiped at her lips. Looking up, she found him with closed eyes. His hands were tangled in her hair, and his cock twitched, wet and hard in the open air.

Sliding her remaining hand over it, she watched him come. Thick and white, it spilled over her fingers, catching on her blouse in splattering drops she didn’t mind in the least. His fingers were slow to loosen, his jaw working as the last of the cum slid down his shaft. The air was full with his labored breaths. She let go of him as he lowered his hands from her hair. His long fingers flexed, and he leaned back against the foot of her bed.

She touched the cum on her top, drawing her fingertips away to look closer at the slippery substance. It was warm and a little translucent. Looking up from her hand, she met Eb’s eyes. His chest was still quickly rising and falling, and his arousal was waning, albeit at a much slower pace. She looked to it next, her eyes tracing over his entirely debauched state. Part of her wondered what more she could do to him. What more she couldn’t wait to do.

But she would wait; she was satisfied for tonight.

Standing, she began to unbutton the blouse. Her hair fell over her bare skin in soft waves as she took the top off and wadded it into both hands. He watched her, obvious in his gaze as his head shifted, following her while she walked toward the small rubbish bin she had in a corner of her room. She dropped the shirt in without a thought—good riddance—and went to her private bathroom.

He took the hand towel from her graciously, silently, once she returned. His breathing had evened out, and he tucked himself away after cleaning himself up. Though, his gaze remained curious, honed in on her as she took off her skirt and stockings next. She knew what he was waiting for, but she didn’t give it to him until she was comfortably wrapped in her plush bathrobe.

He was still sitting on the floor at the foot of her bed when she stopped in front of him. He was put together once again, but not quite as perfectly so, and seeing this brought a small smile to her face.

“Thank you, Eb.”

His lips parted, his eyes staring up at hers for a moment before he closed his mouth. Then, a nod. It was so simple, this interaction, all of it, but what he’d given her was anything but.


	6. Humiliation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All plot, no smut. I am _so sorry!!_

She was frazzled. Luna didn’t get frazzled, typically. Much like becoming uncertain, her mother hadn’t ever allowed for that sort of thing. Luna had begun the day with big plans, had carefully hung something up in her room for Ebony to put on when he arrived.

She was growing used to seeing him every night. An uncomfortable thought, but one that she forced into positive light by considering how differently she saw and treated herself since she’d approached him. So, the day had begun with more optimism than she was used to, with a genuine cheerfulness, with her first ever message to him.

_ There is a spare key hidden in a compartment on the underside of the birdhouse by my front window. When you arrive, use it to enter, put on what I’ve left for you, and wait for me. _

His only response had been a simple, _ Of course, darling. _

Darling.

She’d stared at it while taking in her morning coffee. She was a Client now; no longer someone satisfying a short-lived curiosity. Part of her had anticipated snark over having such a neurotic and specific hiding place for her spare key. But no. She was his capital C, Client. He took her seriously, and she— she found herself trusting him.

Then, her mother had called in the middle of the workday to announce she was visiting with Ravus, bringing Pryna and Umbra home. Luna suddenly had thoughts only of what she needed to pick up for dinner after work. Mother hadn’t visited in so long. Not since Nyx had lived with her.

So, frazzled as she was, Luna returned home with dinner ordered from an Altissian bistro that sold her mother’s favorite baccalà dish. Ravus was already there, standing on her stoop with a plainly decorated wine bag in one hand, the other clutching the leashes of her dogs. She’d missed them dearly, laughing lightly at the way they excitedly followed her inside.

As she began to set everything out on her dining table, she wondered vaguely why he hadn’t let himself in as he usually did. It was growing darker earlier each day, and he so often sniffed at the side of the city in which she chose to live. Mother didn’t necessarily approve of either of them. His penthouse and mysterious, if it even existed, romantic life were far worse, in Luna’s opinion, than her simple lifestyle and quaint neighborhood.

“When is mother arriving?” she called, hearing Ravus put away his coat.

“Soon.” He passed the dining room, removing a bottle of wine from the bag as he disappeared into her kitchen. “She video called me as I was waiting. Made it known she believes my hair to have gotten too long. Do you have a hair tie I could borrow? I’d like to spare myself anymore grief she could give me over it.”

“Bathroom.” She waved a hand vaguely, excited about the visit now. The fussing, the unsolicited advice, the warmth of her hugs— their mother was sometimes hard to please, but she was the Oracle. What made Sylva Nox Fleuret the world’s most acclaimed doctor didn’t necessarily lend Luna or Ravus to slacking off in their achievements.

With the dinner of fish and accoutrement laid out on the table in a mostly presentable way, she stood back to think on what else she needed to get before her mother showed up at her door. She felt as if she were forgetting something…

A clashing sound from down the hall startled her, and she left the dining room to find the source of the sound. “Ravus, try not to make a mess of—”

Her brother stood in the doorway to her bathroom, eyes wide and mouth open. She pushed past him to what had him so concerned, then stopped just inside. Standing in the middle of the bathroom, hands pulling at the skirt of the maid costume Luna had left for him to wear, Ebony stared back with mild distress.

In a sudden spike of shock, Luna turned around, pressing hands into her brother’s chest to push him backward into the hallway. “Go back to the dining room.”

His jaw worked, confusion and anger flickering across his face. “Lunafreya, what is—”

She hissed. “Sssshhhh, go.”

He huffed, ran a hand through his hair, then stalked down the hallway. Luna closed the door after him, turning toward Ebony immediately. “Eb, I apologize. You being here had completely left my mind.”

His eyes were anywhere but on her, hands uselessly trying to cover up the stockings over his long legs. The garter straps that dug into his thighs made Luna pause. He’d even put on the heels—specifically bought for him—that made him even taller than he already was. His usual pompadour was slightly tousled, and it appeared purposeful. Sexy. He’d been waiting for her, just as she’d asked, looking like this.

Astrals, he was _ spectacular. _

He smoothed hands down the ornately frilled skirt, straightening his back. “How unfortunate.”

She sucked in a long breath, still taking him in. There was a hard set to his jaw that she couldn’t stop staring at. _ Damn _ that Ravus was visiting. The thought made anxiety build because her mother would soon be there, too. Luna walked toward him, taking hold of his hands in her own.

“Eb, you need to change immediately.”

He finally looked at her, careful green eyes a touch more reproachful than she’d ever seen them in their short… business partnership. “Oh? I think we may be beyond that, being caught by your lover.”

She blinked hard. “My what?”

“That man who’d looked ready to end me.”

Astrals, she couldn’t talk about this while he looked like that. She shook her head at his assumption, pulling him toward the door. “That was my brother; he won’t say anything. Now let's quickly get you into something else and out of my flat. I’ll pay you for your time wasted tonight.”

He followed her, but not without a heavy sigh. “I’m not precisely certain as to why I should believe you, Lunafreya.”

She paused with a hand on the door handle. “I’m sorry for the deception.” She wasn't, though, not really. Looking over her shoulder, she caught the dust of pink on his sharp cheekbones, the way his free hand kept shifting from pulling on the end of the skirt to hitching at his waist. He appeared flustered, and she was, totally and inappropriately, charmed.

Opening the door, she was one step out before stopping. Down the hallway, she heard her mother’s voice. She was lamenting the way Ravus’ hair hid his beautiful face.

Luna turned around yet again, letting go of Ebony’s hand to usher him back inside. Door closed behind her, she stared at the costumed man standing flustered in her bathroom.

“Stay right here.”

He walked toward the sink, crossing his arms as he leaned back against it. “Easily done. Care to tell me what’s happening?”

She straightened her perfectly in order top with fingers that just needed something to keep them busy. “My family has come for dinner. I thought they were visiting next week. This is—” She cleared her throat, smoothing hands down her shirt again to calm herself. “Right. I’ll go get your clothes. I assume they’re in my bedroom?”

He nodded, looking away again. His jaw was so sharp, and the way his crossed arms displayed the firm muscles of his biceps. The short skirt just barely covering him made her linger there for a moment longer than necessary. The outfit really suited him…

_ Damn _ that she had visitors.

Leaving him in the bathroom, she was startled to find her mother standing just down the hallway.

“Lunafreya,” she greeted, approaching her with a smile. “I’m ecstatic to see you, my dear.”

Luna hugged her with one arm, using it to escort her away from the bathroom. “And I, you, mother. How was the time spent with Pryna and Umbra?”

She was prepared for her mother to bring up, as she always did, that they were the closest thing Sylva had to grandchildren. Which always led to talk of her love life, then onto marriage and her age—_ the clock is ticking, Lunafreya. _

But Sylva just laughed warmly, not budging in Luna’s attempt to guide her back toward the kitchen. “Simply lovely. I’ll tell you more after I’ve freshened up.”

Luna balked, yet another thing she simply didn’t do, especially not in front of her mother. Sylva’s smile waned, and she brought a hand up to Luna’s cheek.

“You’re growing rather pale, Lunafreya. Something the matter?”

She looked past her mother toward the bathroom door. It clicked, creaking a little as it began to open.

“Mother,” she quickly said in hopes to keep Sylva from noticing. “I do have something of great importance to speak with you about.” She touched Sylva’s hand at her cheek. “Away from Ravus.”

Her mother softened. “I understand, dear.”

Luna began to urge her toward her bedroom, shooting a sharp look toward the cracked bathroom door. She couldn’t see Ebony, but he had better damn well see her. What was he _ thinking _ right now? Her thoughts on this were dispelled when she led Sylva away from the door. Because, suddenly, she had another thing to worry about. What did her mother think she wanted to talk about?

Entering her bedroom first, she let go of Sylva’s hand and left her to quickly grab the neat stack of Eb’s clothes from the foot of her bed. Sylva closed the door behind her, and Luna tried not to tense. Folding the clothes into a tight wad, she held it close to her side and turned slightly toward Sylva, pointing toward her bathroom.

“Freshen up first, mother.”

Sylva stared at her, then smiled. “Always so thoughtful. I’ll be but a moment.”

The second she closed the door behind her, Luna left her room with Eb’s clothes. This had been such a close call. Too close.

She walked down the hallway with quick, light steps, stopping in the bathroom’s open doorway with a curious look around the small space. Ravus was near the mirror, opening a cabinet to rifle through it. Ebony stood away from him, as before, with a hand pulling at the hem of the skirt that barely covered his long, long, oh-so-taunting legs.

Luna cleared her throat, sending a pointed look to Ravus who all but ignored it in favor of pulling his hair back with a pilfered hair tie. She rolled her eyes, walking to Ebony and handing him his clothes. Wadded as they were, he didn’t complain, taking them as if they were a lifeline, and he was drowning. He may as well have been.

“Ravus, I’d like you to leave,” she said, calmly turning to him.

He didn’t say anything at first. If he knew what her arrangement with Ebony entailed, she wouldn’t have been able to stop him from the overwhelming amount of disapproval that would’ve spilled out by now. He was tense, his shoulders higher than necessary, but put on a pretense of uncaring.

Luna crossed her arms, knowing damn well her brother was trying to find a use for this knowledge. A man in her flat. In a blatantly sexual maid costume. She could practically hear the cogs grinding in his head as he turned around to face her.

“I won’t ask why you have an escort stowed away in your flat.” A frown cut his face, his words doing the same to her. He looked between her and Ebony, then left the mirror, crossing the small room for the door. “That’s your business, Lunafreya.”

Not expecting that response, she slowly deflated, dropping her arms to her sides. Before she could think over any of _ that, _ she looked to Ebony again.

“I’ll leave your payment on the entrance table, underneath the vase.”

He nodded, already undoing the apron of his costume. “Your mother is the Oracle.”

Already on her way out, Luna paused with a hand on the door’s edge. For some reason, his words hit a nerve. It didn’t matter who her mother was. He shouldn’t even _ know _ that. She didn’t care how much she found herself trusting him; her personal life was meant to be _ hers. _

“Eb, please.”

He stepped out of the heels carefully, placing them aside. Then he began to unclasp the stocking as this thighs from the garter belt. His jaw worked for a moment before he looked at her and spoke. “It’s Ignis.”

She sent him a long look. “Pardon?”

His hands were frozen on the hem of a stocking, his face genuine, if uncomfortable. “My name is Ignis.”

Oh. _ Oh. _

Luna nodded. “Lunafreya.” Full name. It had to be full name. Her mother was in the building and would somehow know and burst into the room to correct her. “It’s lovely to meet you, Ignis.”

He gave her a soft nod, saying nothing more as he began to rid himself of the costume. His face had never quite lost its blush.

She left to stand in the hallway, and her sweet dogs bounded toward her from the living room. Bending to pet them, she stood guard. They were such a source of calming comfort. She realized she’d missed them immensely in their absence. Both dogs seemed very interested in whatever was in the bathroom behind her. The way they nosed and pawed at the door made her smile. She couldn’t hide anything from them.

Her calm was disrupted by the appearance of her mother. She righted herself as Sylva walked toward her. Usually, it took her mother longer to freshen up. _ A lady takes care of herself first, always, Lunafreya. _ It took everything in her to not turn her mother right around again. Eb needed— Ignis needed to leave.

“I was surprised to find you gone,” she said, looking from Luna to the dogs with a warm smile. “Shall we have dinner now? We can have our talk afterward.”

Everything seemed to drag, and Luna nodded, the motion feeling like it was hindered by molasses. She didn’t know what her mother wanted to talk about, what to do with Ravus, and how the bloody hell she was going to get Eb— _ Ignis _ out of her flat without being seen.

Only it didn’t seem to matter. As she walked her mother back toward the kitchen, Pryna and Umbra’s pawing at the bathroom door pushed it open. She’d definitely closed it, and looked back in confusion as it creaked its way open. Ebony—Ignis, his name, his _ real _ name—stood on the other side, fixing the collar of his shirt.

He paused, looking from his reflection in the mirror to Luna, then down to the two dogs that went for him. They crowded his legs, doing circles, and Luna watched as he tensed. Not because of the unexpected canines, but— her mother was now staring at him.

His eyes grew slightly wide, his gaze shifting between them before landing on Luna. “Ah…”

“Mother.” Luna wasn’t going to panic. She became frazzled, but she most certainly didn’t panic. She put a hand on Sylva’s arm. “This is my friend, Ignis.”

Clearly surprised by the introduction, he stepped toward the door, adjusting his collar one last time before holding out a hand, then retracting it to rest in a pocket of his trousers instead. “A pleasure.”

Luna forced a smile. “Ignis, this is my mother, Sylva. I neglected to mention she was visiting tonight.”

He nodded, smoothly entering the hallway. Umbra and Pryna followed, rounding his feet. It was a wonder he didn’t trip. “Another time, then.”

Luna, for how many times she’d done the mindless action, reached for his hand with the intent to lead him to the front door. As soon as her hand grasped his, she froze, then jerked her hand back. Her mother was staring, but Luna refused to panic. “Yes, another time.”

“I must say, Lunafreya,” Sylva said, earning both their attention. “I had a feeling this would be what you wished to talk about.” She sent Ignis a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Please, don’t let my arrival interrupt your evening. Stay and have dinner with us.”

Luna felt as if she could choke at the invitation. Even more so when Ignis accepted, admittedly not without a stretch of silence first.

⁂

“Take it.”

Ignis shook his head, his thumb tapping something out on his phone, likely to hail a ride home. He’d left just after dinner, turning down Sylva’s offer for coffee and dessert. Luna had sat through the entire calamity in silent discomfort, piecing together that her mother had seen Ignis’ coat and shoes by the entrance as soon as she’d arrived.

Going against her better judgement, leaving Ravus and her mother alone in her flat, she’d followed Ignis out to give him his payment. A two hour dinner that entailed endless questions of his character—what sort of character could someone such as him possibly have, Luna would surely like to know—was a trial deserving of great payment.

Luna really wished he’d just take it.

“Ignis, it’s for your time. Just because we—”

He stopped in his tracks, a street lamp illuminating him when he rounded on her. He hadn’t worn his scarf today, and his hair was still tousled with perfect care. “Why should I accept this? I provided no services, and you fed me.” The corners of his lips were curled downward, his brow pinched with irritation. He appeared… insulted.

Still, she proffered the money, held neatly in a clip. “Don’t be angry. You didn’t have to accept the dinner.”

He peered down at the money, but didn’t make any move to take it. “How could I refuse dinner with the Oracle?”

Again, she felt ire build at the notion that it would ever matter who her mother was. She grabbed one of his hands, pressing the money clip into his palm. “The evening would be wasted if you didn’t take this. We may not have—” She curled his fingers around the clip and let go, forcing calm over herself. “Regardless of what happened tonight, your time was spent on my behalf.”

He opened his mouth, but she shook her head, raising a hand to cover his lips with her fingers. His brows arched, his eyes shifting between her own.

“Thank you for pretending to be my friend tonight. You will never have to do that again, and should you decide to end our arrangement after this, I will understand.”

Once she lowered her hand, she could see the way his strong jaw was working, his eyes terribly sharp on her.

“I’d anticipated you being the one to end things.”

It had crossed her mind many times throughout dinner. Especially when he’d chosen to say his profession was _ financial advisor to a Lucian socialite. _ It was brilliantly vague, but her mother had endless connections and could find out within a day if there was anyone like Ignis working for an elite Lucian family. Luna didn’t think she would, though. Ignis had been gentlemanly enough. Not to impress but appease. An entirely different charm than what he used for clients.

Luna had thought about this being the end, but why did it have to be? Ravus knew, but that was a problem for later. She dared to hope it wouldn’t be a problem at all. This night had been every sort of terrible, but she didn’t want to lose this outlet.

“I’d like to resume on another day,” she admitted, her hands coming together in front of her. Tilting her head up to meet his eyes fully, she admired the way the soft lighting from the street lamp kissed his sharp cheekbones. “I’ll refer to you as Ebony, if you prefer.”

He frowned again. “It’s a touch late for that. Ignis is fine.”

She couldn’t help but agree, though the name still sat strangely in her mouth and on her tongue. She didn’t know Ignis. She’d barely known Eb before the smoke and mirrors had been torn away by the interruption of her family.

All thoughts pushed aside, she said, “When are you next free, Ignis?”

His frown eased, first into a straight line, then rising higher into the barest smirk on his face. “I’ll see you in two days, Lunafreya.”

“Luna,” she corrected, relieved to see him finally tuck the money clip into a pocket of his coat. “Please call me Luna.”

He looked up, patting himself down. A car pulled to a stop nearby, and he sent it a glance before smiling wider at her and making his way toward it.

The air was chill, the wind picking up as nighttime set deeper in. She watched him leave in the car, then walked back to her flat, not wanting to deal with her mother or brother, but content in the knowledge that her dogs were finally home again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Plot is my driving force, and I know that's not the point of kinktober, so I doubly apologize but, truly, thank you for reading <3


	7. Chair

Candles created a soft, warm atmosphere in Luna’s room. Ignis moaned into the air, the sound muffled by her hand. Fingers in his mouth, she leaned over him, her other hand stroking his rigid cock. She’d tied him down to the chair that usually sat at her vanity. He writhed at her ministrations, pulling fruitlessly against the rope that bound his wrists.

“Ignis,” she breathed against his neck before drawing back to take in his expression.

Face flush, he cracked his eyes open, sharp slits that met hers readily. His chest shook with heavy breaths, hitching with a sharp inhale when she gripped him harder and twisted her hand over him in a much slower pull. He moaned around her fingers, biting lightly and closing his eyes.

She ached between her thighs. Languidly, she withdrew her fingers, saliva coming away with the gesture and sticking to her fingertips. His eyes opened again at the change, his tongue moving over his lower lip as he watched her. She paused her jerking movements on him, lowering her wet hand to slip into her panties. Fingertips tracing over herself, only teasing, made the ache burn hotter.

Ignis’ cock twitched in her hand when she slid two fingers in, playing in her wetness. Her grip on him tightened, but she didn’t move her hand, giving more attention to herself. Fingers curling inside, she arched forward with a breathy sound. Heat burned at her face; he kept watching her with those infuriatingly sharp eyes.

Unable to keep her gaze locked on his, she let her eyes travel downward, over his sweaty chest and toned stomach. His cock dripped with precum, the entirety of it hot and heavy in her hand. She let go of it to rest her hand on his shoulder for balance. So eager, his erection, it stayed upright, resting taut against his body. Luna watched it twitch in the open air as she slid fingers in and out of her wet heat. Her thumb rubbed circles around the sensitive nub, and she leaned further into Ignis, her breaths shortening, heart picking up in pace.

He fought against his binds, shifting under her. “Luna.” It escaped him in a hard breath.

She tore her gaze away from his weeping cock, meeting his eyes.

“Please,” he said, the timbre of his voice lower than ever. It came from deep in his chest. “Sit on my lap, darling.”

Knowing what he was asking, she chose to only partly comply. Her legs were growing weaker the more she touched herself, in any case. Her hand left the warmth of her, and she closed the short distance between them, spreading her legs and straddling him. With his cock pressed between them, she rested hands on his shoulders and tightened her thighs.

A slow grind against him, and he fought his restraints again, a low moan falling from him. She felt it in his chest, flush against her own. The feel of him, hard right at her core, fed the sweet ache at her apex. She repeated the motion, pressing into him harder. Her nails dug into his shoulders, then released, traveling up to his neck and into his hair. His cock, separated from her want by the thin fabric of her panties, pulsed with each roll of her hips.

Ignis tipped his head back, another moan escaping. This one was strained, a match to the sudden tenseness of his muscles as he came. He pulled harder against his binds than ever before, shaking the chair with his release.

Luna didn’t stop moving, grinding into him even harder. His cum, on her stomach, was warm and made her skin stick and pull with wet noises that joined his labored breath in the air. The motions were slick, and her toes curled, muscles tightening and all thought leaving her as she grew closer to the crest.

“Luna.” It was a plea formed by perfect lips, accompanied by a deep moan.

She continued, ignoring him and letting herself get lost in the feeling of his body against hers. Eyes closed, heart beating in her ears, she gripped at him. Her hands pulled at his hair, and she jerked his head forward, pressing it against her chest.Her skin was slippery with sweat, her bra pushing her breasts up, where she buried his face.

Reaching the tipping point, she unraveled over him. Her mind became blissfully blank as she felt it wash over her. It began at her core, curling outward until she finally stopped, resting limply against him.

Everything was telling her to remove herself from him, but she couldn’t manage the effort. Hands sliding out of their tangle in his hair, she slowly slid them down his arms and reached around the chair. Her fingers barely brushed his forearms, nowhere near the rope that tied his wrists together. With a lean back, she felt the pull of their skin against each other, his cum long cooled and beginning to dry.

Suddenly, she had no issue getting up.

⁂

Blowing out the candles throughout her room, she paused after the last one to give it a thoughtful look. Ignis, stepping out from her private bathroom, caught her attention, and she tucked the thought away for later.

He’d fixed his hair after cleaning himself. As she touched the little skull pendant she’d never once seen him remove, she noticed red marks along his wrist. She couldn’t see the other, tucked away in a trouser pocket, but it hardly mattered.

“I’m unavailable for the next week,” he said as she went around him to the bathroom.

She didn’t respond until moments later, returning to find him pushing her chair back to her vanity.

How unsurprisingly polite.

She motioned for him to sit, and he listened, quirking a questioning brow.

“Thank you for letting me know.” She opened the burn cream she’d gotten from her medicine cabinet. Taking one of his hands, she applied it gently to the red marks. It didn’t actually look that bad, she thought, leaning down and bringing it closer to her face. Better to be safe, though.

His fingers flexed, slightly distracting, and she stilled them, saying, “An entire week off. Paying an advisory visit to that Lucian socialite you spoke of the other day?”

It was meant to be some sort of joke, said with a smile as she moved on to his other wrist. His lack of a response made her look up, her touch on his reddened skin feather light. His own stare was focused on what she was doing. He held a frown, and tension formed a small line between his eyebrows. When he looked up a second later, it was with a small tilt of his head, the expression easing away.

“At times, I feel as though I should be the one paying you.”

Luna could do nothing but blink at him. Her care on his wrist came to a halt, and she couldn’t help the curl of a frown that came to her face. “I beg your pardon?”

Ignis’ eyes widened slightly, then he looked away, his jaw tightening. She looked at the hard line of it, reading displeasure in his expression again. Not the same as just earlier. This seemed to hold more… offense.

It made no sense; _ she _ was the one offended here. Her mouth opened, then closed, and she averted her gaze next, returning her attention to his wrist. Only she was done. It really hadn’t been that bad.

“Why do you sell yourself at all?”

It seemed every bit a fair question to her, but when she dropped his hand and looked at him again, he was frowning at her.

“I don’t question your reasons for needing an escort, just as you shouldn’t question mine for being one.”

Luna faltered, conflicted by what she knew and how different it was from what she was presented with. “Ignis, I--”

He lifted a hand in a dismissing wave. “Don’t fret. I must go.”

She almost found herself telling him that she didn’t _ fret. _ She fretted just as much as she became uncertain, which was to say, she didn’t _ used to _ fret. Inviting him into her life had brought along a fair number of unfortunate changes like this.

Handing the money to him felt different this time. She couldn’t place the feeling even hours after he’d left. It felt like it was eating her. Part of her wished it would.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading <3


	8. Lipstick

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Telling myself I could create smut every day for any amount of time was a really wild idea. I'm loving this story, but it may be my last foray into smut writing.  
**Warning** for Ignis wearing makeup and vaginal fingering.

She hadn’t missed him. The very idea was ludicrous. He hadn’t been the barest smidge of thought on her mind during his entire absence. In fact, she’d forgotten he existed until a week—more than, but she wasn’t counting—had passed, and she’d received a message from him.

_ Tomorrow evening? _

It had popped up on her phone during a meeting, and she’d let it sit there, unread and untended to for hours. She knew it was merely a suggestion, a direct question of her intent to continue their arrangement. Part of her, though, was provoked. He didn’t make such calls. He didn’t decide when they met, just alluded to his availability and waited for her to decide.

As she cleaned up her desk before throwing on her coat, she sighed through her nose and reconsidered the message. A simple question that read so much like an assumption. She responded on her way out of the office.

_ Tonight. _

⁂

Already home by the time he arrived, Luna said nothing more than a soft “Good evening,” as she closed the door behind him. He unwound his scarf and took off his coat, looking at her with a slight smile that she didn’t return.

It was a wordless exchange from there, him going to her room and disrobing. She rummaged through her private bathroom, gathering cosmetics into a small bag she reserved for travel. Walking out with it, she was met with his bared form standing casually in the middle of her bedroom.

She took in the sight of him silently, reminding herself that she hadn’t missed him.

He took a seat on her bed, eyes honing in on the bag in her hands. She dumped it out unceremoniously next to him, fingers skipping over the foundation. He didn’t need it; nothing about his face should’ve been concealed, she thought. She considered him, watched the line of his brow as it arched on one side, his own curiosity flashing through green eyes.

No need for blush, either, she decided. Hope would have it that he’d be blushing naturally soon enough.

The eyeshadow palette she chose was one she rarely touched. Too dark for her taste. A gift from a colleague who hadn’t ever breached the threshold into friendship. Inasmuch as Ignis wore purples and violets in most of their interactions, she thought the plum she applied to suit him well.

She was met with no protest as she carefully made him up. Her touch was gentle, and he shifted his head this-way-then-that with every soft press of her fingers at his jaw. The pause came when she was met with his lips. He was as close to flawless as a person could get, she thought. Which scared her. Just a bit.

Repressing the question over why he didn’t wish for more in his life when he so dearly should’ve, she leaned close, bent to delicately paint a dark shade over his lips. Who was she to assume? He could’ve been anyone. At this rate, he knew more about her than she could ever find out about him. He was a mystery, and that’s why she hadn’t missed him during his absence. She couldn’t possibly miss someone she didn’t even know.

The only word to describe him, once she leaned back to admire her work, was stunning. Purple brought out the green of his eyes. As if they needed any more allure. He could sink ships. He could start wars, and by the bite of his stare, the strength of his hands, he could likely end them as well.

Luna averted her gaze, dropping hands from his face. She hadn’t missed him, but she’d certainly consumed a fair amount of bodice ripping novels—a guilty pleasure, the titles were always puns—in her free time to fill in that Ebony-Ignis-Whatever the bloody hell his name was-sized hole in her evenings.

And, astrals, it was showing.

Pushing all thoughts aside, she lifted hands to her collar, unbuttoning her blouse. His eyes shifted downward, to where her fingers worked at the buttons. She slowly slid out of the top, soft flowery patterns falling from pale shoulders and pooling on the floor.

Taking one of his hands, she pressed it flat to her collar bone, sliding it down until he cupped a breast through her bra. A wine red, it was lacy and sexy and far too flimsy to have been worn to work. She stared at him while he stared at his hand to her chest.

“Touch me.” The command was delicate, but he reacted immediately.

His free hand left his side, coming to her stomach. Fingers tracing over skin, she tried not to tense when she brushed a thumb over the scar next to her navel. It didn’t work, her breath stilling. But he continued, unabated.

He massaged her breast, slowly trailing the other upward to appreciate her with both hands, large but gentle. She didn’t necessarily want gentle. At least, she didn’t think so. But it felt—it was better a touch than she could recall, however simple this was.

Her heartbeat grew in pace. She had no reason to be nervous. Ignis smoothed his hands down the curves of her waist, fingers digging into her hips. Her skirt unzipped at one of the sides, and he found the zipper easily, unpinning the clasp with a look up at her, tentative suddenly. Ill-fitting on him, the look made her frown.

She brought a hand to his chin, lifting his head higher. “Hesitancy doesn’t suit you.”

His eyebrows arched, nearly meeting the strands of hair that fell over his forehead. “Don’t mistake a request for consent as reluctance.”

The words, falling from painted lips in a voice she absolutely hadn’t missed, gave her pause. His gaze was steadfast. And that, that just made it worse.

“Ignis.” She gripped his chin a little harder and leaned down. “Undress me. Now.”

Like before, he reacted immediately. Zipper undone, her skirt was roughly pulled down her thighs. She’d been peeling her stockings off when he’d arrived, so little covered her once the skirt fell to the floor. Her panties matched her bra, a secret, empowering thing she always loved to do when anticipating a rough day at work.

He hooked fingers at the waist of them as she let go of his chin to rest her hand on his shoulder. She blushed when he was slower in removing them than he had been the skirt. His eyes traveled downward, tracing over her. She refused to squirm. She took care of herself; there was nothing to be embarrassed about.

He leaned forward, his eyes closing. She nearly pushed him away, feeling his nose gently touch her, his breath caressing her sex. He traced a line upward in her skin as he looked up, meeting her eyes.

She lifted her hand from his shoulder, running it through his hair. Her face grew warmer, reaching her chest. The uncomfortable feeling had her stepping back suddenly, hands leaving him to work at removing her bra.

He stood, his eyes drinking her in. Or that’s how it felt. His interest was keen, and she reminded herself that she was paying him to be this for her. He was very good at his job. So good, she let herself sink into the fantasy he cultivated.

His hands roamed her body, tame at first. Patient. Then, he squeezed, hard grips at her thighs, her ass, as he drew her close. The lipstick smeared onto her skin, staining down her neck with every kiss, every bite. She held onto his biceps, tilting her head back to invite him in.

“Will you lie down?” he asked against her neck.

She tensed slightly, and he stopped moving. He was asking, but she wanted him to _ tell. _

She opened her eyes, righting her head to look up at him. She could feel how red her face burned. Her heart continued to beat furiously, but he’d yet to do anything. Now, he was unmoving, and her heart remained a hammer. She didn’t say anything, her eyes flicking between his.

“Lie down for me,” he finally said. His fingers dug into her tender skin, and he turned them around, not giving her a choice.

Lying back, she felt her heart pick up even further as he joined her, crawling onto the bed. He slowly traveled up her body with his mouth, covering her in the lipstick until nothing remained on his lips but the faded remnants of color. She let out pleased sounds of every touch, her blood singing from the sensation. His tongue circled one of her nipples, teeth biting just enough to sting.

“Ignis,” she drug out in a moan, a hand delving into his hair and holding his head against her. He was hard against her, and she briefly entertained going further. But the thought was fleeting.

Fingertips playing with the tuft of blonde just above her clit, Ignis sucked hard at her breast and let his fingers move lower to trace her entrance. She squirmed beneath him, already wet.

He leaned back to take in her expression as he slid a finger inside. Curling and tracing shapes with it in her, he rested his forehead against hers. A second finger joined the first, reaching a place in her that hadn’t been touched by someone else in _ so long, _ a shuttered gasp escaped her.

His free hand brushed strands of hair out of her sweaty face, his elbow propping him up. His eyes were lidded but remained steady on hers as he coaxed whimpers out of her.

He was very, very good at his job. She fully bought the illusion of his own vicarious pleasure. He breathed as quickly as she did, writhing with her every time his thumb circled her and made her legs jerk.

“Ignis, yes.” She leaned upward to kiss him, but he tilted his head away, her lips grazing his jaw instead.

Right. Right, that’s right.

She threw her head back, the thought disappearing. She was growing close, but she couldn’t voice that, too consumed by his touch. He nipped at her, his mouth staying busy, no longer lending itself to temptation. She gripped at him, coming around his fingers with a cry.

“Igni-ah.” She squeezed her eyes shut. The feeling consumed her, his hand slowing but not stopping. Overstimulated, she trembled against him, a chuckle out of him cooling the burning skin of her collar.

His fingers left her moments later, and she lay, limp and replete. He left the bed while she basked in contentment. He disappeared into her bathroom, and she sat up, staring at the door. The feeling didn’t go when he did. She found herself slightly concerned, though.

She hadn’t missed him, but if he’d been doing _ that _ before his week away, she might’ve.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a slow progress, but here's the beginning of act two.  
Thanks for reading <3


	9. Voyeurism

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kinktober what?  
Smut whom?

Luna was late. She rarely, if ever, ran behind, and finding herself in this state was eating at her nerves. She’d had just about enough of work as of late. Just about enough of everything, to be quite honest. She pushed through the rotating door into the grand hotel, sparing the nth glance at her watch in hopes of turning back time.

Making a business partner wait an entire half hour? A man could get away with this. Any person who didn’t happen to be the daughter of the Oracle could get away with it. She rushed past the concierge and through a large hall that led into the hotel restaurant.

The lunchtime crowds were vivacious for a weekday afternoon. She weaved her way through for the usual table, almost knocking into three different people in her path. When she was nearly there, the pointed toe of her shoe caught on the leg of a chair, tripping her. Her foot wobbled in its high heel, ankle rolling as she lurched forward. With hands full, one briefcase and one heavy file of organized documents, she did little else but yelp on her way down.

The world tilting toward her came to an abrupt halt. A strong hold at her waist caught her in time, the file holder slipping out of her arm in her surprise. She wasn’t feeling like herself today, even less so now being righted by steady hands as she wavered. Frowning because of her now pained ankle, she stalled at the person bending to pick up the case of files.

Ignis, impeccably dressed, lifted with the files. He wore no tie, the first several buttons of his shirt undone. That skull pendant rested gently at his collar over soft skin. She made herself look away when she realized she’d been staring at that one point for maybe a moment too long.

“Are you alright, miss?”

His question bade her to look at him, but she took the file and nodded. Staring at the coded name on the outside of the case, she said, “Thank you, sir.”

Turning around, she searched for her table and found relief seconds later at the sight of her guest’s casual wave. Both at finally arriving and at just who the firm had decided to send her as a partner on this small project.

“Thank you for your patience, Ms. Highwind,” she said, taking a seat while placing her things on the table. It was only a professional pleasantry. Though not friends, she liked the woman.

Aranea waved her off, menu in front of her face. “I was going to order for you if you hadn’t gotten her sooner.”

There was a bottle of wine already open on the table, one glass half full in front of Aranea. Luna poured some for herself—she was impatient, and she deserved it—and spared a look over her shoulder toward Ignis.

He held the hand of a woman, guiding her out of her seat. His smile was warm and his hair was up in its proper ‘do she hadn’t seen in quite a while. Taking a gulp of the wine, she had to avert her gaze when Ignis’ hold on the woman’s hand didn’t end after helping her up. She closed her eyes and drank the rest of the glass to rid herself of the image of him pulling the woman close at the waist.

Troubling.

“You noticed Mr. Charming over there, too, huh?”

Luna opened her eyes and placed her glass down to stare at Aranea. “Pardon?”

Aranea nodded toward where Luna had just been looking. “The man who stopped you from face-planting.”

Against her better judgement, Luna looked that way again. Ignis was now leading the woman out of the restaurant. She was whispering something into his ear, and the way he bent for her so he could listen, the way he smiled at whatever it was she said, it made the bitter taste of the wine in Luna’s mouth become all the more sour.

“Always on the clock,” Aranea said, regaining her attention. She smirked, putting her menu down to pick up her own wine glass. “The only other person I see working so often is you. At least his profession is _ fun._”

Luna delicately touched the empty plate in front of her, adjusting it pointlessly. “You know what he does?”

“Ravus and I used to see him here every night.” Aranea shrugged, brushing her hair over a shoulder while nursing the wine. “A new woman every night, sometimes a man. Always a different face, but he puts on the same charm for them all.”

“You and Ravus have dinner together every night?”

Aranea rolled her eyes, but Luna saw the slight pull of a smile. “Anyway, we haven’t seen the guy in over a month. I guess he takes his nights off now.” She rested an elbow on the table. “From the look of you, you should be doing the same thing.”

Luna shook her head, though it was non-committal. “My duties hardly compare to such… distasteful things. I imagine I have more energy than someone like him after a mere eight hours.”

“I don’t know…” Aranea looked thoughtful. “He looks like he knows his way around a bed. I’ve thought about asking for his card.”

Luna felt a pinch, a nerve catching at the suggestion. She repressed it, alarmed but not visibly so. “I’m not sure how Ravus would feel about that, considering how he feels about you.”

It was only a guess. She didn’t know how her brother felt about his colleague. But if it worked to distract Aranea from further discussion on this _ very done _ matter, Luna was willing to invite this discomfort in place of what she felt now.

Aranea laughed, lifting a hand to catch the attention of the wait staff. “No wonder Ravus didn’t want to be the one working with you on this. You’re not playing.”

Luna picked up the case of files with a nod. “Speaking of work.”

⁂

Greeting Ignis at her door with crossed arms, Luna forced herself to relax. She’d wanted to do something similar to what he’d done for her before. She wanted him to leave marks on her, not of lipstick, but bruises, bites. The kind that a person could only get in the heat of passion. Not for any other reason than to prove to herself that she _ could. _ Be passionate, that is. About something other than her career.

After seeing him at work, she wasn’t quite up to the task. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t ever seen him in the act of seduction many times over. There was something to be said, though, for having such a blatant reminder. Of who he was and what he did. She followed him to her bedroom, wondering if he’d slept with a person at the hotel right before arriving to her place every single evening.

She’d known he did, but to _ witness _ it again... She swallowed her thoughts, reminding herself she was paying him by the hour. The clock had begun the moment he’d stepped through her front door.

Undressed, he did a set of mild stretches while she pulled a chair from her walk-in closet into her bedroom. She positioned it a few steps from the foot of her bed. He watched her curiously, his arms falling loose to his sides. He was so calm and relaxed in his body. He had every reason and right to be, but she couldn’t help but find it at odds with his polite, demure countenance.

“How is your ankle?”

His question disturbed her thoughts. She quickly looked up at him, her mouth falling open.

“Ah. A touch sore, but none the worse for wear.”

He nodded, a smile coming to his face. “Should that happen again, I suggest compressing it and placing it under ice for a few hours.”

Was he genuinely offering advice on how to care for a simple injury while his— his body was on full display for her? How… horrendously inappropriate. Luna frowned against the blush that began to warm her face.

“Sit down,” she ordered softly, pointing at the foot of the bed.

He listened, large hands smoothing down his thighs to rest on his knees. He wasn’t hard, the length of it belying the true nature of its size. She sat down in the chair, unwilling to let him touch her, though that’s all she’d been wanting since he’d arrived.

He was going to bring himself to life instead.

“Pretend I’m not here.” She crossed her legs, resting her hands gently on the arms of the chair. “Touch yourself.”

Ignis hesitated, a brand new occurrence that had her tilting her head. His mouth opened, and she waited for him to say something, to ask whatever it was that had him pausing. Then, quick as a whip, he brought a hand to his chest, palm flat in the center. His other hand rested on the mattress, holding him up in his lean back.

Eyes closing, he inhaled deeply as his hand traveled over his chest. It moved over his skin in long caresses, his abs shuddering with the slow touch downward. His cock twitched and grew, but he didn’t touch it. Instead, his hand bypassed it for his thigh, fingers curling to dig into skin.

Warmth flared, beginning in Luna’s stomach. It branched outward with every sound that Ignis made. His flushed skin felt like a reflection of her own burning chest, the budding heat between her legs a mark of his fingertips tracing over his own inner thighs.

He was hard within moments, not fully there but viable. He continued to ignore it, massaging himself just below it as it jerked and hardened further.

Luna squirmed in her seat, her legs pressed tightly together creating gentle pressure at her apex. She refused to touch herself; it wouldn’t compare to what it would feel like to have his hands on her.

She swallowed thickly when his hand finally touched his shaft. It was a loose hold, urged on by slow movements of his wrist. He didn’t touch the precum, which beaded and slid down the tip before dropping onto his thigh.

A low moan drew out of him, his hand on the bed curling fingers into her bedspread. His grip tightened, the draw of his hand over himself coming from the elbow as it grew in pace.

She devoured the sight of him. Fully erect and achingly pink, his cock continued to weep heavy drops of precum, leaving slow trails down the veins and sticking between his fingers. She imagined it sticking to her inner thighs, smearing the skin just outside her aching entrance.

She squeezed her legs tighter together, her fingernails digging into the arms of the chair.

“Ah,” he moaned, gritting his teeth for a moment. “Luna…”

She tensed, her eyebrows drawing together in confusion.

He continued to work himself over, moaning her name between heavy breaths. His hand worked faster, harder with every minute that passed, his hips bucking up to meet it occasionally, punctuated by a biting groan of her name.

Her face impossibly hot, matching the heat between her legs, Luna watched him come apart at his own hand. She didn’t understand the theatrics of him including her in the act. It wasn’t a fantasy of hers to be jerked off to by anyone, least of all a man she paid to be intimate with.

When his hand came to a stop, his cock jerking and spilling thick lines of come over his fingers, she was transfixed. Every part of her ached with need, and she made herself sit in it, eyes taking in his release as if it were her own. He bloomed like a flower, and her gaze was the sun. It meant to urge, to encourage growth. She also hoped it seared.

Watching left her feeling worse than before.

⁂

“I will pay you one grand to kiss me.”

The statement was sudden, but it didn’t warrant the shock on Ignis’ face. He stopped what he was doing, fingers paused on one of his shirt cuffs. “I beg your pardon?”

Luna grit her teeth against the rise of embarrassment, bringing heat to her face and an unpleasant feeling to her chest. “One grand. For a kiss.”

He blinked, then shook his head. “You know the rule.”

She nodded but pressed. “Two, then. You know money is no issue.”

Ignis looked down at his cuff, making sure it was in place before leveling his gaze on her. “I’ll ask that you respect my boundaries.”

Her embarrassment deepened into shame. She nodded again, her hands busying themselves with smoothing down the blankets at the foot of her bed. They were still warm from his body. Her request wasn't the guiltiest of her thoughts, and she suppressed them all as she righted herself.

“I’m going to bathe. Your payment is on the table by the entrance.”

Ignis straightened his collar next, using her vanity mirror. “In the vase?”

With pursed lips, she almost didn’t answer. It was where it always should be. The question felt unnecessary. “Yes. Good night, Ignis.”

She began to unbutton her blouse on her walk to her bathroom, but he stopped her with a gentle hand on her elbow.

“You're the only one who knows my name,” he said, his hand leaving her as quickly as he’d reached out. “I don’t usually take to this much abnormality.”

She stilled, her hands slowly falling from the buttons on her top. “I shouldn’t have asked. I apologize.”

He smiled at that, and it struck her right through that he could do it so easily while she stewed in discomfort.

“No,” he said. “I’m sorry that you think you should have to pay to be kissed.”

He left her standing in her room, bidding her a quiet goodnight that she missed due to her tumultuous thoughts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (˵ ͡~ ͜ʖ ͡°˵)ﾉ⌒♡*:･。.


	10. Marking

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Warning** for no Ignis smut. There is very mild smut, but... >.>  


At twenty-four years old, Luna had been convinced her own worst enemy could be no one but herself.

“Prompto?” She poked at her gelato, burying her spoon into the coffee-flavored treat.

Across from her, dark hair flat and blue eyes bright, Noctis barely touched his own food. He rubbed at his neck, eyes averting. “Dunno when it happened, but yeah. We…”

Luna let go of her spoon and lifted her hand for him to stop. There was no need for an explanation. So he’d fallen in love— with a boy _ she _ had encouraged into his life. Noctis was her friend, and she loved him dearly. But for most of their lives, several countries and an ocean separated them. The occasional letter and phone call hadn’t exactly inspired a deep connection, even if he was her betrothed.

“You’ve told your father?” She placed her hands on the table, forcing calm. This didn’t hurt in the way it _ should’ve, _ but it was unpleasant all the same.

Noctis shook his head, his face growing pink. “I-I think he knows.”

“And our engagement continues?”

He shrugged, such an inappropriate reaction. “Prom’s a guy, so he can’t… take your place, y’know?”

She did, but that didn’t mean she hated it any less. Noctis surprised her, though, reaching across the table to place a hand over hers. He spoke with confidence, a hopefulness that made her smile.

“Maybe if we talk to them together, your mom, my dad, we can convince them to cancel everything.”

They, in fact, could not.

⁂

The bar was smokey and sweaty, but Luna had drank an entire bottle of wine and leaned against the bar with an ease she’d never before felt.

“You should have water from here on,” the bartender said, placing a glass in front of her.

She cupped the glass with both hands and watched as the man moved around behind the bar. He was handsome, scruff on his jaw, lips drawn into a smirk for much of the night. She returned the look with a smile of her own.

“What _ you _ should do, Nyx, is take me home.”

His smile waned, his hands coming to a stop on the bar top. After a beat, the smirk returned, weaker. “You gotta stop hittin’ on me, princess. You’re engaged.”

“With a man who’s in love with someone else.”

“As you’ve said… every night this week.”

She took a drink of the water, the first taste of which leading to her downing it all. She wiped at her mouth and pushed the empty glass toward him. This was becoming quite the bad habit. Go to a bar after work, flirt with the exotic Galahdian bartender, drink until everything was numb.

She wasn’t upset with Noctis. She wasn’t even upset with her mother. There rested a question in her, inspired by her frank conversation with Noctis. It was difficult to define, adjacent to her feelings for the man who’d been engaged to her since they were children, crossing with a deep wonder over whether or not she could be a desirable person. Perhaps that’s what continued to drive her here, to sit in front of the only person _ she _ found desirable in the way she was meant to want Noctis.

Nyx refilled her cup, and she nursed it while waiting for her ride home. How silly of her to have thought she could seek companionship just because Noctis was no longer passing his time alone. She was going to marry him someday, and she’d still be the _ other woman. _

“You’re not gonna be the other woman,” Nyx said with a roll of his eyes. “Isn’t he into a man? That makes you the _ only _ woman.”

Luna frowned, fingertips dipping into her glass before lifting and flicking water at him. “You are rude, Nyx Ulric. I will never, _ ever _ ask you to accompany me home again.”

⁂

The sweat at her back made the wall stick and pull at her skin. Every thrust upward coerced a moan out of her. His breath, hot at her neck, was wet, like the sticky mess between her legs. He held her there, pressed against the wall of her flat, his arms hooked under her legs.

“N-Nyx,” she moaned, fingernails digging into his back.

The sound of their bodies, slick and loud, was absolutely debaucherous. Luna’s toes curled, the edge of an orgasm approaching. Nyx held her tighter, hand gripping her thigh as he bit into her shoulder. He was relentless, so much rougher than she’d anticipated, yet perfectly what she needed.

The pain of his teeth sinking in only heightened the immense pleasure of his cock filling her. He sucked at her skin, and she tilted her head back to give him more access, to offer herself as a canvas. His mouth and teeth moved over her neck, down to her collar, leaving trails of himself.

He thrust harder, hitting her deeper. The photo on the wall by her head rattled, then fell to the floor. Glass shattered, the frame breaking next to his feet. A pause, his mouth leaving her skin, their eyes meeting— She gripped at his hair, drawing him back to her, and he continued anew, his hips meeting her in hard jerks, his mouth resuming its attack on her neck.

Nyx had left marks on her that she would pretend to hide from her mother. With the overwhelming weight in responsibilities and expectations akin to a princess that Luna had always felt, Nyx had been the only one to make her feel as if she could truly be royalty.

⁂

_ Happy birthday, Princess. _

Luna stared at the message, scrolling up at the yearly repetition of the words, all unanswered. The flood of memories had come, as they always did this time of year. She’d responded to Noctis’ message as usual, knowing he only remembered because his birthday was just days before. But Nyx…

She put her phone down with a sigh. There was no way she could respond to him now. He’d chosen to part. He’d had family who missed him in Galahd, and Luna's promised to someone else. Neither of them should’ve expected it to work out. That’s what he’d said the last time she ever saw him. He’d done nothing more than reach out to wish her a happy birthday since.

Face in her hands, Luna felt the first pang of grief she knew she’d be feeling much of that day. Always on her birthday. She should’ve blocked his number long ago. She didn’t because she missed him. It was that simple.

A chime from her phone brought her out of her thoughts, her work forgotten on her desk ever since she’d received the message. She picked up her phone, wondering what Ravus’ birthday wish would consist of this year. They hadn’t spoken since he’d caught Ignis in her flat. But this wasn’t from her brother at all.

_ Should I arrive as usual this evening? _

Texts from Ignis were usually to the point, a concise one or two words. She licked her lips before responding, curious. It was a simple _ yes/no _ question, which was expected. Their entire arrangement was built on simple exchanges, folds of money, and bodily fluids. Still, she had to ask, suspecting she already knew the answer.

_ Why would today be any different? _

His reply wasn’t as prompt as usual. Expected, though. He’d been caught.

_ I was under the impression you would want to do something different for your birthday. _

How he could know this about her made her feel a heavy weight of discomfort. Likely curiosity had drawn him to her very brief, image-less page on Eospedia, linked only from her mother’s extensive biography on the website. Could she not have her own boundaries? She knew nothing but his name and the face he made when having an orgasm.

She sat on the message for an hour, taking lunch and preparing for a meeting in the meantime. He sent another message before she could get around to it.

_ I apologize for delving into your business. _

There was an ellipsis, popping up and disappearing every few seconds, that she watched, resting her chin in her hand.

_ I’ve overstepped. If you wish to not see me today, or ever for that matter, you only need to give me the word. _

Luna smiled. What unexpected floundering. This was so unlike him, but she appreciated the apologetic nature of it.

_ Be at mine tonight, _ she finally replied._ I do have something a bit different in mind. _

Tucking her phone away, she focused on work and channeled her anxiety over Nyx’s annual message onto something new— just what the bloody hell she was going to do with her hired lover that night.


	11. Teasing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut-free chapter. Bonding is sexy and romantic, right?  
I'm so... so sorry.

Luna wasn’t prepared when Ignis appeared at her door. She was no better a quarter of an hour later as he lingered in her kitchen. He watched her walk about, silent and patient. He had better be; he was getting paid after all.

Placing a bottle of wine on the island counter, she procured two glasses and faced him with a smile. It was insincere, and she dropped it a moment later.

“I meant to order food,” she admitted. The glasses clinked lightly against the countertop as she placed them down. “Time has escaped me entirely, it seems.”

Ignis picked up the wine bottle before she could. “Allow me.”

She didn’t argue, quietly watching him uncork it. He poured only one glass, handing it to her before putting the bottle down. The wine was bitter and delicious on her tongue. She closed her eyes on the second sip, savoring it for a moment. When opening them again, she was faced with the same patient Ignis.

Right.

“I’ll call for takeout.” She walked past him to get the amalgam of menus she’d collected over the years, some outdated but most well-used. “In the mood for anything?”

A hand stopped her in place, resting at the wrist of her free hand. She looked over her shoulder to Ignis who was frowning gently.

“Your birthday calls for a touch more than greasy carryout.” His hand left her has a spoke. “I’ll cook for you.”

Luna turned around to face him, her empty hand coming to help hold the wine glass. Was she hearing correctly?

“Please,” he said, motioning toward one of the bar stools that lined the counter in the center of her kitchen. “Have a seat.”

She didn’t listen at first, eyeing him while he began to open cabinets and poke about in her pantry. None of the indignity that should’ve been there was coming to her. She sat down and drank more from her glass, watching him closely. He didn’t ask for help, nodding to himself with every new item he accumulated on the counter top.

It wasn’t until he’d ignited her stove and began the work that she spoke up. She didn’t ask what he was making. She didn’t even ask why. Instead, she poured herself a second glass of wine and rested an elbow on the counter.

“I’m thirty five today.”

He hummed to that, either too focused on his task or unwilling to give an opinion on her age. She felt ancient. Passing the threshold into her thirties had been nothing. She’d been too focused on work back then to care about anything else. She’d also had Nyx. For the longest time, she’d had him, and it had felt unending. He’d made her feel powerful.

Now, she felt anything but. She was approaching forty; the world was closing in. Soon she’d have to marry Noctis. They’d have one perfect child, as expected of them. She would become close friends with Prompto, an inevitably she didn’t find all that terrible. Maybe she’d forget about Nyx, or at least pretend to have forgotten.

Ignis set to work, and she forced the thoughts out of her mind to watch him. Her wine glass emptied twice before either of them spoke again. Whatever he was making smelled heavenly.

“I appreciate the meal,” she said, emptying the wine bottle into her glass. “Although, I called you here so we could have sex.”

In the process of turning everything off, Ignis turned to her with his hands caught in a hand towel. His eyebrows were arched high, green eyes searching her face. It was cute. She wondered how old he was, and if he, too, thought of her as ancient.

“That isn’t an impossibility.” He looked down at the counter as if assessing its usability for such an act. “If I may suggest, we should hold on the thought until after dinner.”

She laughed into the glass, knowing her lips must be purple by now. “I’ve thought about it more frequently as of late. Us coupling, I mean. How would it work?”

He sorted through the cabinets again, turning away from her to find plates. “I presume it’ll be much like my previous visits.”

Luna shook her head, though he couldn’t see it. “I’m talking about the sheer size of it. You are frighteningly endowed, Ignis.”

The plates clattered in his hands, his back straightening to a point. He turned around once they’d settled, his face graced with shades of pink.

“Ah.” He cleared his throat and put the plates down on the counter between them. “Is that so? I’ve never heard complaints from clients or otherwise.”

“Oh, dear, no,” Luna said with another laugh. Her head was abuzz with thoughts that wouldn’t quite connect to one another. “Far be it from me to know how to handle such a large…”

She trailed off, pinching her lips between her teeth. She shouldn’t be saying all of this. It did nothing but add another level of discomfort to this already odd situation. He was a prostitute, serving dinner in her kitchen. It was her birthday, and there was an escort in her house, who’d made a meal expressly for her. It smelled so divine, she could cry.

Every bit of this was beyond strange.

It wasn’t until he rounded the island to take one of her hands that she realized she _ was _ crying. She picked up the wine glass with her free hand, but he gently stopped her.

“Perhaps we should give that a rest.”

She frowned deeply but let him take the glass away as she wiped the tears from her face. His hand had been warm over hers, and while he served food onto a plate for her, she looked at her manicured nails, slotting her fingers together. Drunkenness had never suited her very well. Not even now, in her own home. The bad habit of it had led her to Nyx, which in the end, led to what she did now.

Untangling her hands, she wiped at her face. “Apart from our arrangement, I’ve only ever been with one person.”

Ignis placed a plate in front of her. His expression was curious, though she could see the remaining hint of worry in his careful eyes. He wouldn’t stop frowning. “Oh? Do tell.”

He didn’t mean it. He couldn’t actually be interested. But the hazy fog of her mind was begging for her to tell _ someone. _ Even if only the man she paid to keep her company.

“I met him ten years ago. A Galahdian here on a worker’s visa. My mother didn’t approve.” She gave him a small nod in thanks as she took the fork he held out. “Naturally, that gave me more reason to fall in love.”

Ignis nodded, taking the seat next to her with his own plate. He didn’t speak, merely looking over at her as he began to tuck in. She played with her food, taking a few bites before continuing. A sinking feeling in her stomach told her she’d drank far too much far too quickly.

“My mother gave me an ultimatum. I had to leave him, or I would lose my inheritance.” Her face pinched at the memory. “I was ready to lose it all. Mind you, I’ve never cared about the inheritance. Most of it will go to my brother, and that’s _ if _ my mother should ever pass away. It seems more unlikely the longer her research continues.”

Ignis startled her with a small laugh. He caught it with a hand and a soft apology. She smiled at him with a slight shake of her head.

“Please, laugh. It’s completely absurd, however true.” She stabbed some of her food with her fork, mulling on the thought as the silence stretched.

“You gave it up, then?”

Chewing on a bite, she nodded. “Almost. In the end, he left for Galahd. He missed his family. I wanted to go with him, but he was against the idea. He didn’t want to get caught up in—” She made a vague motion with the fork in her hand. There was absolutely no way she was going to explain the arranged marriage or the _ other man _ in Noctis’ life or the constant pressure to succeed in every aspect of her life from her mother. “My life. He didn’t think a future with me worth fighting for, given the obstacles.”

“Primarily your mother, I take it?”

Another nod from her. “Among other things.”

Long past crying, she smiled and began to genuinely enjoy the food. She could hardly believe he’d made it. Sending him a side glance, she chewed through several bites and wondered what other secret skills he had.

“Someday, when we do have sex, I’ll be ready.”

He met her gaze, a corner of his mouth curling up in a light smirk. “A stretch or two should prepare you.”

Her smile grew. “I’m not certain what stretches there are that could possibly prepare me for that massive thing in your trousers. It’s a _ monster, _ Ignis.”

Impossibly, his face began to redden over again. “That isn’t—”

“Listen, dear, you should be proud. Truly.” She rested an elbow on the counter, chin in hand to look at him. Her fork clinked against the plate as she set it down. “I’m merely requesting for when the time comes that you go easy on me with that… beastly thing.”

He looked away, placing his own fork down and coming to a stand. “Teasing me, are you?”

She sat back while he took her plate and stacked it atop his own. He rounded her with the dishes, unceremoniously putting them in the sink. The amusement in her bloomed further, especially when he turned about to frown at her. Where was the flirtatious reaction she’d anticipated? His blushes were charming, a broad change from the disarming nature of his usual smirk.

“It’s my birthday. I’m permitted to tease.”

He crossed his arms, but the frown eased into the barest smile. It wasn’t as if anything she said was a lie. In fact, she’d been insofar _ much _ too honest all evening. The thought mildly sobered her. Leaving her seat, she stretched before walking to her wallet, tucked into her handbag in the foyer.

Part of her expected him to reject the payment like he had the last time they’d spent time together without anything sexual occurring. Surprisingly, he didn’t argue. She watched him tuck it into a money clip; then it disappeared into an inner pocket of his jacket as he put it on.

“Ah, right.” His hand leaves the inside of his coat a beat later, holding something out to her. “Happy birthday, Luna.”

She took it from him slowly, fingers closing around a small envelope. “It’s not money, is it?”

Ignis was already turned away, bent to tie his shoes with a light laugh. “Check inside. I daresay you’ll find your answer.”

She didn't look inside until he was gone. Her hands turning over the deadbolt, she leaned back against the door and slid down to sit on the cold hardwood. It sobered her further, bringing her to the present while she tore the envelope open.

“A spa day.” She smiled at the gesture, reading over all of the treatments that awaited her at _ joie de vivre _ (all lowercase, very important) so long as she visited within the year. The voucher itself wasn’t all that interesting or imaginative. It was the accompanying one peeking out from the torn, off-white paper that made her pause.

Two vouchers. ‘For a friend,’ the second one read. She bit her lip gently and tucked both back into the envelope. She would almost rather have gotten money for how vexing _ this _ was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think we can all guess who she'll invite with her to the spa and what they're going to get up to there... lol  
(Note to delete later: This work is going to be regularly updated, so look forward to things happening!)
> 
> Thanks for reading <3


	12. Mutual Masturbation

Luna had arrived to the spa full of tension that was now being expertly massaged out of her. She’d fretted over the vouchers briefly before sucking it up and taking the implied gesture for all she could assume it to be. Doing as the voucher suggested, she’d invited a friend. To Ignis’ surprise (and her own, to be frank) that friend happened to be him.

This revelation was what had her arriving in such duress. The wave at one another when meeting outside the entrance. The laugh and denial to the receptionist that this was in any way a date. The silence of standing alone together in the massage room while the masseuses prepared themselves.

All of it was building up to an unbearable level of awkward.

That was until firm hands began to work her muscles loose. She moaned softly, then bit her lip in embarrassment at not catching herself in time. She’d needed this desperately, not having known it until she became a puddle of bliss on the massage table.

Her legs were jelly afterward. She wobbled on the way to the washroom, stretching freely once Ignis closed the door behind them. The lock of it clicked, and if not for the relaxed feeling overpowering all else, the sudden stretch of quiet between them would have her fretting all over again.

They were supposed to be cleaning themselves for the next hour to get rid of the toxins the masseuses had forced to the surface. Luna didn’t know what that actually meant. There was an open shower at one end of the room, separated by a short wall of opaque glass. At the other end was a large bathtub. Caught between the options, Luna looked from one end to the other, then made for the shower.

Two steps forward, she nearly ran into Ignis, who seemed to be thinking the same. She gripped the towel more tightly around herself and looked up at him. His hair had been flattened, and while one of his hands came to his own towel to pull it taut, the other lifted to brush tawny strands out of his face.

“I assumed you’d take the bath,” he said.

“I prefer showers.”

“As do I.”

Luna stared at him, unsure as to where this conversation was going, if anywhere at all. “Ah, well. Splendid. Let’s shower together, then.” The words left her before she’d mentally given the okay. Lifting a hand to her mouth, she shook her head. “On second thought—”

“There’s plenty of room for two,” he interrupted, looking past her to the shower.

She followed his gaze, her eyes falling over the tiled floor of the open space. A drain was at the center; she supposed they could keep to opposite sides of that without any issue. Before she could vocalize her agreement, Ignis was removing his towel. He hang it from a hook near the short glass wall separating the shower from the rest of the room.

She looked purposefully away from him as he stepped in. She may have seen everything he had to offer plenty of times over, but he wasn’t being paid to be with her right now. She’d invited him as a friend, and friends didn’t stare at one another in the nude. It just wasn’t polite.

Water began to fall from an overhead source mounted into the ceiling. Ignis stretched an arm out to let it drip over him, and the quick draw back and curl of his fingers told her it was cold. She stalled there, watching him slowly step under the fall. A shiver ran up his back, hitching at his broad shoulders. The oil glistened on his skin, shining in the sunlight that reached through the wide window set against one of the walls. Because of the oil, the water rolled clear off him. When he bent to use one of the body washes they’d been given, allowing her quite the eyeful, she felt it was time to move.

Her towel took its place next to his as she stepped in. Hands coming to her hair, she made sure it was still securely pulled back. The spread of water that fell was wide, as if the shower was meant for multiple people. She didn’t think deeply on what that suggested, tentatively holding a hand under the flow to test the temperature.

The hot water soothed, and the further in she stepped, the more relaxed she became. Ignis turned around to face her, his eyes much freer in their roam of her body than she’d given herself when watching him. She fought the urge to cover herself, her hands making sweeps of her shoulders and upper arms with the soaps.

“Thank you,” she said, as if this were all normal. “This is the best gift I’ve received in a long while.”

Ignis nodded, water dripping down his jaw and neck. “Thank you for choosing to share the experience with me. I admit, I was surprised by your request.”

That made two of them, but Luna wasn’t going to voice her own confusion. She tilted her head back to keep her hair away from the flow of water, letting it run down her chest and shoulders to rinse away the soap.

“Of course. Should anyone need a day to pamper their physical form, it’s you.” It was a little awkward to speak this way. She had to raise her voice to make sure he could hear her over the noise of the water hitting the tile below. Her eyes met his as she stepped back, but she couldn’t read his expression through the rain of water between them. “Considering your occupation.”

“How thoughtful.” He took a step toward her to stand directly underneath the flow. He ran a hand through his hair to brush it out of his face, the other hand remaining idle at his side. “Care for a hand?”

Luna paused with an arm stretched over her opposite shoulder. She was trying to wash her shoulder blades, but she couldn’t reach. Had there been a brush or something, this wouldn’t have been an issue. She lowered her arm, pretending not to notice the way Ignis’ eyes dropped to her chest with the motion. Warmth bloomed on her face as she nodded.

“Please.”

Turning around was difficult. Instinct told her not to let anyone behind her, and when his hand met her shoulder, she couldn’t help becoming tense.

His touch disappeared a moment later. “Ah, should I—”

“It’s fine.” She reached back without looking, touching his side. Her fingertips grazed wet skin, seeking out his hand. Once he seemed to catch on, putting his hand in hers, she drew it up to her shoulder. “Much appreciated, dear.”

She was still tense, but he made no further comments on it. His hands were steady, smoothing over her shoulders and down her back. The soap began to lather, and she dipped her head forward, closing her eyes at the comfort of it. Slowly, she relaxed at the touch, a contented sigh leaving her when his hands made their way back up to her shoulders.

When she felt like he’d done a thorough job—Astrals, she couldn’t let herself think about how close his fingertips came to touching her behind—she rounded on him, careful not to let her hair meet the steady fall of water.

“Your turn.”

Ignis arched perfect brows, as if unprepared. It lasted for only a moment, a small smile coming to his face. He faced away from her, speaking up as soon as her soapy hands meet his broad shoulders. “Was I mistaken to think this an exception to our usual dates?”

Her hands freeze over his shoulder blades. “Dates?”

“In reference to my paid visits.”

“Right.” She slowly slid her palms down his back, the cogs in her mind turning. “I’m not paying you for today. I should’ve made it clearer from the beginning.”

He shook his head, and water dripped from his hair down his shoulders. “It’s obvious now, in your tentative touch.”

Her hands stopped mid-back, just below her eye level. Ignis shifted, tilting his head to peer at her over his shoulder. She frowned at him, then dug the heels of her hands into his back in a slow push upward. He could think her hesitant all he wanted. That didn’t make it true.

A soft chuckle rocked his shoulders. “Consider me surprised.”

“That I’m washing your back? It’s preferable to letting the oils ruin your clothing.”

He didn’t respond right away, and she could sense it, his amusement, even though she could no longer see his smile. “That you would let me touch you. You’re rather dominant and adverse to allowing me to do my job.”

She scoffed. “I let you do your work. I wouldn’t be paying you otherwise.”

He lifted a hand, and the muscles in his back shifted underneath her palms. “We’ve yet to sleep with one another. I’m underutilized every evening we spend together.”

“Give yourself more credit, Ignis.” A laugh bubbled out of her. “Don’t reduce your profession down to simply inserting yourself into someone for a scant few moments of pleasure.”

Her hands dropped when he turned around fully to face her. He wasn’t smiling anymore, an eyebrow arched high. His arms crossed over his chest, water dripping off of him in soapy rivulets. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you regularly neglect yourself.”

She blinked up at him, her mouth slowly falling open. “That’s none of your business.”

“Isn’t it?” He tilted his head, not looking at all convinced.

“As a hired lover, you satisfy me plenty.” She sounded more defensive than she meant to. “As a friend, you should mind your own.”

Something about what she said made him falter. His smile waned into a flat line, and his arms fell loosely to his sides. Her eyes followed them down, drawn to the one thing she’d done well to avoid looking at throughout the shower.

Now, she stared. Because, at some point between washing one another, Ignis had gotten hard.

She looked away quickly, a hand coming to the elbow of her opposite arm. The blush on her face burned hotter. This was so inappropriate. Such a typical male reaction, and she’d been silly enough to think that impossible for someone like Ignis. She took a step back, looking around the entire shower before peering up at him.

His own face was a deep shade of red. He didn’t make a move to cover himself, but his eyes were averted. Another step back brought her out of reach, only the softest mist of the shower hitting her. Against her better judgement, she took in his lean form standing prone in the middle of the shower. His cock twitched when she looked at it again, as if knowing how it affected her.

The third step back had her meeting the half wall of glass that made up one of the shower’s borders. It was cold to the touch. She shivered a little as she leaned back against it. She lifted a hand to the edge, gripping it for purchase while her other hand lowered to the juncture between her thighs.

He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, still avoiding her gaze. The water continued to pour over him, and Luna— she watched. His taut muscles moved under wet skin, the inticing sight of his want driving her forward. Her fingers parted her lips, swirling circles in a growing wetness.

“Ignis.”

He finally looked at her, his lips parting as his eyes trail downward. One step toward her, he stopped when she quickly shook her head.

“Don’t pass the drain.”

He looked down, his toes resting over the ornate grate in the tiled floor. It had to be the boundary, and she had to make it clear that it can’t be crossed. Somewhere deep inside, it pleased her that he’d gotten aroused by a simple shower with her. The thought of it was the single driving force for her fingers delving between her folds.

Thankfully, he caught on quickly. One of his hands curled around his cock in a loose hold. He began to languidly slide his palm over it, his eyes roaming her body.

Everything about this was completely out of line. Despite this—or perhaps _ because _ of this?—Luna reveled in how his eyes ate at her. She pressed her fingers deeper, bending them at the knuckle.

Ignis pumped his hand harder, the head of him pink and beading with precum. Luna couldn’t look away. She didn’t _ want _ to look away. With a heavy swallow, she rubbed her thumb over her clit and imagined Ignis crossing the shower to stop her. She pictured, with clairty so strong she almost rhought she could will it to happen, him pulling her hand away to replace her fingers with his cock.

It was too long, too thick, too _ big. _ She had no doubt that it would feel incredible inside her. But that’s not why he was invited here today. He was here as a friend only; he couldn’t cross the boundary. Only she couldn’t quite recall why having a boundary was so important.

His hand jerking hard over his rigid cock, Ignis began to pant and relax in place. He stepped toward her again, passing over the drain. She didn’t voice a correction as none were coming to her. Pushing off from the wall, she withdrew her hand slowly, sliding the slick of her wetness between her fingers. Ignis stopped in front of her, and when she lifted her hand to touch his chest, he took her by the wrist, drawing her fingers to his mouth. His eyes remained steady on hers, his lips closing around her fingers. She gasped at the way his tongue met her skin. He stroked himself as he slowly slid her fingers out of his mouth and released her.

With her hand suddenly free, she lowered it to touch his chest. Then, thinking better of it, she turned away from him and strengthened her grip on the edge of the short wall. Returning her hand to the wet heat between her legs, she glanced over her shoulder at Ignis, curious about what he would do. He’d already crossed the line.

She didn’t know what she hoped for, waiting with her fingers caressing her entrance. Bent at the waist, she gave him as much of an eyeful as he’d shown her earlier. Her heart raced at being watched. When her fingers parted her lips and began to play in full view for him, she bit back a moan.

A hand touched her waist, sliding around to cup her ass. She ducked her head, breathing heavily against the glass. Her fingers pressed further, drawing herself closer to the edge. His touch heightened the feeling.

“Ignis,” she breathed before gritting her teeth. His fingers dug into her skin, more of him coming to press against her. She felt it, his cock resting hard behind her. He continued to stroke it, his pace quickening to match the tenacity of her own fingers delving into her aching heat.

The orgasm hit her suddenly, the build up tipping over into tremors down her legs. Her thighs rocked, then pressed together. Her knees felt weak. They began to buckle as the euphoric feeling burst through her, and Ignis’ hand on her moved again, catching at her waist before she could let herself slide to the floor.

Her grip on the wall was so tight, her fingers were sore. She rested against it, catching her breath. After two, she felt something hot hit her back. In the moment, she thought it was the shower. Until a low moan was drawn out of Ignis, punctuated by his hold on her growing tighter.

His heat left her several beats later, once they’d calmed down and she could stand properly to face him. His chest was still rocking heavily with each breath, and his eyes were lidded in their aim down to her.

Shame crept up on her. Was he upset that she’d told him to stay back only to invite him closer in what was arguably the same breath? He should’ve been, but she couldn’t tell. So she felt the need to reassure him. “I’ll pay you for today. For— for that.”

He stepped underneath the constant fall of water, lifting his hand to clean it of cum. “There’s no need.”

Following his lead, she began to rinse herself of what he’d spilled onto her back. “Don’t say that. I hadn’t planned for this, but it happened. You should be compensated.”

“Luna.” Her name was sharp on his tongue, though the words that followed were much gentler. Indifferent. “Think nothing of this.”

“I’m afraid I can’t.”

He looked down at her, brushing his wet hair back with a hand. “It’s not out of the ordinary.”

She couldn’t believe she was washing his cum off of her as they had this conversation. “Yes it is. Inviting you here was meant to be platonic. What we did—”

“Was a great deal of fun,” he said, cutting her off. “You needn’t worry. I go to bed with all my friends.”

Balking was a new thing for Luna. She didn’t generally find herself getting worked up over things. But this… this was atrocious.

“Platonic sex?” The incredulity was heavy in her tone, and she didn’t care.

Ignis rolled a shrug over his shoulders. “If I weren’t able to separate physical intimacy and romantic attraction, I wouldn’t have chosen my line of work.”

She took a deep breath, staring up at him with a broadening sense of unease. “It would make me feel better to pay you.”

He opened his eyes against the downpour of water to tilt his head in a curious look down at her. “You’re embarrassed.”

The statement made her start. “No. _ No. _ I’m doing the right thing.”

“I understand your ill-placed shame.” He was ignoring her, returning to cleaning himself off as if their interaction had barely broken his stride. “But paying me won’t remove that feeling.”

She scoffed, but her reply fell silent, left in her throat. He could read her that well, apparently. It unsettled her further, and she let the conversation die there. The shower was silent for the rest of the hour, though every time he looked at her, she made sure to frown to negate every blush it brought to her face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... Ignis saying he sleeps with all of his friends troubles me, <strike>even though I'm the one who wrote it lol</strike> because that doesn't seem like a very Ignis thing to say, I suppose?  
Just remember that all she knows about him is his first name.  
You're so lovely for reading <3


	13. Lingerie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for cunnilingus.

The silky feeling of the garments on her body was so foreign, she was caught between fascination and discomfort. She played with the bows on the stockings as she waited for Ignis. The bustier gave her more cleavage than what should’ve been physically possible. Never had she thought her small chest could promise more than what was actually there. It had taken a great deal of effort to get everything on, and this alone made it all feel worth it.

The door to her bedroom creaked on its way open. She stopped touching the bows, relaxing on her bed in a way she hoped would entice. Ignis slowed in step, his eyes widening in their rake over her. All she’d told him was to come promptly at the usual time and prepare to fuck. Using those exact words through text had cost her a fair amount of comfort, but it was easier than if she’d had to say it aloud.

He didn’t waste a moment. His fingers were already unbuttoning his shirt as he stepped toward the bed. “You look breathtaking.”

She lifted a finger. “I’m not paying for flattery.”

He chuckled, and she could feel it in her stomach, a tingle that stretched down to her toes. Strange but easily ignored. He let his shirt slip down to the floor, his hands working at the buckle of his belt next.

“I remember your reason for calling me, but it makes what I said no less earnest.”

“Ignis.” It was a warning, backed by a frown. “You don’t accept kisses. I don’t accept compliments. Now have your way with me.”

Another chuckle fell from him, a sound she’d hoped to hear. “Impatience isn’t becoming, Luna.”

She groaned and rested her head back on her pillow. “Stop talking. You sound like my mother.”

Instead of listening, as he tended to do, he stepped out of his trousers and said, “Yes, compare me to the Oracle before we’re intimate. You know precisely what turns me on.”

She grimaced, leaning up to send the look his way. “Ignis, you are ruining this.”

As if he’d forgotten about them, he unbuttoned his gloves and took one off with a swift pull. Not another word left him, his amusement softening into something more serious. His eyes never left her, moving from one part of her body to the next. Like he didn’t know quite where to begin.

Helping him out, she stretched along the surface of the bed, trailing fingertips up her thigh. Seduction felt unnatural on her, but the growing blush on Ignis’ face told her it was, however improbable, working for him.

He climbed onto the bed once nothing remained but his underwear. They were more modest than the usual. She wanted to comment on it, perhaps poke a bit of fun to entice a deeper blush out of him, but all words were struck from her when his hands touched her thighs. He sat between her legs, his careful eyes following his hands across her body. The stockings covered her legs entirely, and the busteir reached her navel. Not much skin was on display, but what did cover her was terribly tight.

“Tell me what you want, Luna.”

She stared up at him. She didn’t have an answer. Hadn’t she made it perfectly clear already? _ I want you, obviously. _ But no, that wasn’t right. _ I want you inside me now, please? Post haste. _ Again, wrong. She’d mentally prepared herself for this all day. Letting him take the lead was difficult enough, and she wished he would just _ keep _ it rather than make her decide. Because all she really wanted—really, truly—was to be touched. She was starving, and Ignis ought to have known that by now.

One of his hands smoothed up her thigh, slipping between them to rub circles at her center. The stockings were thin but not thin enough. He arched over her, pressing harder into her while his mouth met her collar. She squirmed underneath him and melted at the attention. Her hands delved into his hair, forcing him to keep biting and sucking at every inch of her exposed skin.

His fingers weren’t going to be enough. She groaned at the unsatisfying pressure he kept applying to her increasingly wet heat. He lifted himself, bracing his hands on either side of her arms. The loss of his hand from her center was brief, immediately forgotten when he slowly ground himself against her. The movement lacked finesse, which was out of place for him.

She opened her eyes through the building pleasure to see him staring at her chest. She wanted to point out that they’re not actually that big, and that he should be well aware of that already. Then, he ground into her again, his jaw tightening as a low groan emitted from his chest. Her legs closed around him, inviting more contact. All it served to do was tease her more, the rigid length of him rubbing against her through far too much clothing.

“Ignis.” It was both a complaint and a plea in one word.

He lowered his head, his nose burying itself into the crook of her neck. She dug her heels into his lower back, her impatience growing. His body over hers was burning, teasing at an itch without actually scratching it.

When he lifted himself again, it was to sit up. All points of contact lost, she sent him a questioning look and gasped when he reached down to grip the joint of the stockings right between her legs. He tore it open in one hard rip, his jaw working while his eyes roamed over everything he exposed.

She reached down to take hold of his waistband but tensed when her fingers curled over the elastic and brushed the tip of his cock. It was such a bold presence, promising both pleasure and pain. Mentally preparing herself for this didn’t seem to hold up to reality.

Ignis drew her hand away, holding it against the bed. She tried to protest, but he shushed her, shifting back to get a better look at her ruined stockings. His lips parted as if he had something to say. Instead, he swallowed and planted a hand against one of her thighs, pressing it into the mattress.

Another gasp, this one followed by a whine, escaped her when he ducked his head to taste her. With none of the hesitation she’d experienced over this in the past, he delved his tongue into her folds, lips pulling at the soft flesh.

Her back arched, her breaths becoming shuddered gasps. This wasn’t in the plan. He wasn’t listening to her original orders. This— Ah, this was— She squeezed the hand that held hers and moaned his name. Her momentary tension drained away with each lap of his tongue until she was nothing more than a puddle of need.

“Is this what you want?”

She blinked her eyes open, feeling his breath against her as he lifted his head. “Wh-what?”

His eyes were a clear green, burning into her. Rather than answer, he grazed her overly sensitive flesh with his teeth. She curled underneath him, her head tilting back. “Mmn, yes.”

“Tell me.” His words were followed by a slow circle of his tongue. “Use your words, darling.”

He was asking for the impossible. Everything he did drew her closer to bliss, while every interruption brought her back, holding her climax hostage.

“I can’t articulate when you’re—” A sharp breath cut her off, her eyes pinching closed at the way he slowly sucked at her skin. “M-must you hold an in-inquisition while pleasuring me?”

He hummed, and she could feel it against her. “From where do you think _ my _ pleasure derives?”

Her eyes snapped open, and she peered down at him. His chin was horrendously wet, a corner of his mouth curled into a familiar smirk. She couldn’t get another word out, each one becoming a moan as he feasted on her without shame.

⁂

“You’re not ready.”

“And that’s for you to decide?”

Luna slipped the ruined stockings off and left them on the floor. Ignis was quicker in dressing, working on his collar as he watched her. Her legs were gelatinous, but she sludged through the feeling, powered by slight ire.

He appeared unbothered by it. “You were uncomfortable.”

“It was new to me,” she defended, turning away from him. She pointed a finger over her shoulder. “A hand, dear?”

He began to pull and loosen the ties that bound the back of the bustier. “We’ve shared a bed how many times at this rate?”

The tight grip of the bustier finally leaving her, Luna sighed a little in relief. It made her feel extremely sexy, but at what cost. She rolled her eyes at Ignis’ statement and fought the urge to round on him.

“It’s different when you’re the one... above me.” Her hands came together in front of her. “I anticipated less rationality. Coming from someone like yourself, that was nothing less than disappointing.”

His hands left her, and the bustier fell to the floor. “Someone like myself?”

Crossing her arms to cover her chest, she turned around to frown up at him. “I work with men like you every day. You know what you want, and I expected you to take it.”

He arched his eyebrows before nodding, as if suddenly understanding. Luna very much doubted that to be the case, though.

“I don’t do this for myself. My aim is to please.” He frowned in return, a hand coming to his hip. “I apologize for disappointing you, but I could sense your trepidation at moving forward.”

She shook her head. “That. _ That _ is also what I’m referring to. You assumed without asking me.”

He left her bedroom, and despite being nude, she followed. The chill air of the foyer gave her a little shiver. She let it course over her, fingers digging through her bag for his payment. He put on one shoe before speaking again.

“I asked you, darling. More than once, if I recall.”

She folded the money in her hand and held it out to him. The events that had happened in her bedroom replayed through her mind. “You made it impossible to speak.”

To her surprise, one of his chuckles filled the air quietly. “Oh? So it wasn’t that much of a disappointment, then?”

He came to a stand and took the payment. Heat bloomed on her face, reaching down to dust pink over her exposed chest. She lifted her arms to cover herself, but it did nothing for all that he’d seen already. She couldn’t find anything to say.

“I daresay I fulfilled the task you’d so eloquently suggested in your message,” he said, leaning down to bring his face close to hers. “If you’re capable now, tell me the exact way you wish to be touched, and we’ll return to your room. I’m not opposed to a long night.”

She swallowed, then rose a hand and pressed it against his chest. He needed to leave. She didn’t have to say it; he chuckled again, reaching past her to grab his coat. One of his hands skimmed down her arm before curling around the door handle. The gooseflesh that had begun to fade from her skin reignited at the touch.

“Warm yourself, for my sake if not your own.”

She shivered again, harder this time, in the wake of his departure. The cold rush of air from outside was too much, and she rushed back to her bedroom to put on something comfortable and warm.

Not for his sake, though, certainly.


	14. Bath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for implied physical abuse. Very, very implied.

She wasn’t feeling it tonight. Not in the sense that she found him unattractive. More that she was overworked to the point of exhaustion. Ignis began to strip in her bedroom before she could voice this over a particularly large gulp from her second glass of wine. At first, she felt she could watch. She could _ always _ watch him.

He folded his things neatly, without rush or overthought. She leaned in the doorway of her room and tilted her head. His back was toward her, toned and broad. Occasionally, she’d see the remnants of his previous clients. Light red marks on his shoulders. A small mark or two on his chest from being bitten just a little too hard.

She’d never mentioned them; they’d be gone in hours, and he’d be back the next night with more. There was no point. He was good at what he did. It made sense that there would be marks left as proof of that. Now, though… She frowned over her glass at the large spots of purple that mottled his back.

A smirk came to his face, as usual, when he turned around to face her. He unclasped his belt, the motion slowing when she didn’t return the smile. His began to fade, and his eyes searched her over, ending on the glass of wine in her hand.

“Am I unneeded tonight?”

Luna didn’t answer immediately, too busy taking in the numerous bruises on his chest as well. They were a darker purple than she’d ever seen. Fresh and far too large. Her eyes lifted to meet his, and it was a struggle to not ask. To not demand who’d done something like that to him. She swallowed the urge along with the rest of the wine.

“Not a chance, dear.” Pushing off from the doorway, she nodded toward the adjoining washroom. “We’re taking a bath.”

⁂

Luna’s tub was perfect for one person to luxuriate in. It was deep and wide, but whoever had designed it hadn’t given consideration to anyone with long legs. Two people with this condition were out of the question, but Luna felt squeezing together into the space to be just what they needed.

Ignis got in first, as ordered, but he gave her a wary look when she touched his shoulder to push him forward. She couldn’t blame him or the uncertain look he tried to hide while she climbed into the steamy water behind him. He seemed to mind more that he couldn’t see her than the temperature of the water, which was enough to scald. It was at a level of heat she prefered, leaving her skin pink in a matter of seconds.

Settling in behind him, she was careful when touching his back. He didn’t react other than to look at her over his shoulder.

“This isn’t what I’d anticipated.”

She smiled at his candid response and obvious confusion. “Thrown you off, have I? That’s a first.”

“It’s the first I’ve been placed in a tub with no discernible body part to touch, let alone pleasure.”

She laughed, leaning forward to gently rest her forehead against his shoulder blades. He was too tall for her to lean over. In retrospect, she should’ve let him sit behind her, but they’re here now. They have to make do. He tried to look at her again, and she wrapped an arm over him, holding him against her.

“Relax.” She closed her eyes, tired from her long day. This was so comforting. At least, until he spoke up.

“Are you turning me into soup?”

Her smile grew soft. “Mmm, maybe. What flavor?”

The quiet splash of the water sloshing about told her he was trying and failing to stretch his legs. Her own were at each side of his waist, floating in a loose circle around him.

“What flavor do I like or what one do I wish to become?”

Her eyes cracked open. Was he being silly on purpose? “They’re the same, aren’t they? I want to be consommé. Simple, with added but unnecessary complexities to taste. Good for when you’ve fallen ill.”

Her fingers dripped water down his back as she circled a particularly large bruise just left of his spine. The edges of it were already yellowing, but they were bad enough that she’d likely be seeing them the next day. And the next.

What sparked in her were no longer questions of _ who _ had done it to him, but for what reasons he allowed himself to be treated this way. He’d only ever been gentlemanly with her, even when being a tease. He was, from what little she knew of him, above all of this, and damn well above mistreatment. She had the distinct feeling he knew that, too.

So _why_, then?

She leaned back and let go of him to pour body wash into the palm of her hand. He gripped the edges of the tub as if ready to stand up when she began to lather his back. She eased on the touch, worried she’d hurt him by pressing too hard. But another look over his shoulder revealed his continued confusion.

“Luna, are we… bathing?”

She cupped her hands in the water and lifted it to rinse away the soap. “I believe so.”

Green eyes leaving hers, he couldn’t hold the awkward position looking over his shoulder for long. “Is that _ all _ we’re doing?”

She hummed, light and without tune. “Possibly. I’ve had a stressful day.” Her hands dipped into the water and poured over him again. His skin glistened in the warm light, marred by the dark splotches of purple. “We both have, I think.”

He grew still when she wrapped an arm around him again. Her breasts were flush to his back, her cheek resting against one of his shoulder blades. Her free hand rounded him to meet with the other. She was content to sit like this for a while, to hold someone who she felt needed it.

But her hand brushed something on its way around. Coming to a stop, she rested fingertips on his abdomen before slowly lowering it to what she’d touched. Even without seeing it, she knew it wasn’t as hard as it could be. His breath hitched when her fingers wrapped around it loosely. She slid them down to rest at the base.

It was a wait, hesitation keeping her there. The question wouldn’t leave her, to ask if this was alright. He grew harder in her hand, and it was impossibly hot to the touch. Shifting in place, he brought a hand over hers.

There it was, she thought. He was going to make her stop. But his hand made hers move over him. From base to tip, the slow draw elicited a soft shudder out of him. She smiled against his wet skin, following the rhythm once he let go.

His panting began to fill the air, his muscles tightening and jerking enough to make the water quake. She quickened the pace, her arm around him holding tighter. He gripped the edge of the tub with a hand, his other coming to rest over hers. His back arched, first forward, then back when he came undone in her hand. She adjusted along with him, resting back against the cold edge of the thick porcelain.

Heavy breaths rocked his broad chest. The angle of it, as he relaxed into her, was enough to give her a look over his shoulder. The water between his bent legs was murky, the tip of him breaking through the surface on sheer size. He used her chest as a pillow, resting back far more than he had been before.

She let go of him, trailing her hand up his stomach to rest on his chest. His heartbeat raced against her palm. She tried not to think about the bruise there. She definitely didn’t say anything about it.

“You never told me.”

“Hmm?”

“What soup you would be.”

He closed his eyes, a silent sigh falling from him. “We’re gold tail consommé. Two fish cooking in a single broth.”

The answer came so readily, Luna didn’t know what else to do but close her own eyes and relax herself. They were going to need a proper shower after this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just imagine that bath water... that cum soup.


	15. Desk

Peering through a crack in the doorway, Luna made absolute sure no one had seen Ignis come into her office. Her assistant was out for lunch, and Ignis’ message earlier in the week of _ Always requesting me in the evening. I’m capable of such discretion, your friends wouldn’t suspect me should you need me sooner _ had been too tempting. It gave her no choice but to call him on his bluff.

Now she fretted because it apparently hadn’t been one at all. She didn’t have friends, so inviting him to her office had been her only thought. Brilliant idea, Lunafreya. She could hear the voice of her mother in her head berating her for not thinking this through. Just brilliant; what will people think?

Ignis chuckled while she made sure her blinds were fully closed after asserting that no one was out in the hallway. Best to triple check that the door was locked, too. Her office was annexed from her coworkers (her mother couldn't be the Oracle without people acting a bit strange and worship-y, thus the needed distance) and far too high up for anyone outside to spy on them, but it didn’t hurt to be sure.

She turned to him in disbelief. At his arrival, at the coffee he’d brought as an excuse for said arrival, and mostly, at her own sudden decision to even let him know where her office was located. Since her assistant was out, the justification of coffee wasn’t needed and sat untouched on her desk. She walked toward him, wondering briefly what he’d chosen to bring her.

Something about him seemed different, and she couldn’t place it until he touched a paperweight on her desk with the tip of a gloved finger. He was wearing a tie and fine shoes, the red soles of which she spotted as he sat on the edge of her desk next to the paperweight and crossed his legs at the ankle.

“Coming from an important meeting?” She didn’t intend to sound derisive but could tell immediately how it could be taken that way. “Or have you dressed in such a distinguished manner expressly for my benefit?”

He looked up from the paperweight with a growing smirk. “You are the one who called for my presence. I made do.”

“I didn’t choose your wardrobe,” she countered as she stepped closer to draw his hand away from the paperweight. It was too delicate to be toyed with.

His fingers curled around hers, and she didn’t expect it, coming to a standstill in front of him. He smelled of the usual coffee and lillies she’d become used to. The professional dress, though, offset his presence, changed it into something not entirely unlike the version of him she suspected he projected for her. But different enough that it gave her pause.

She could’ve been fraternizing with a client or coworker. That’s how it felt. Alone in her office together. His hand pulling her closer. It was… oddly exciting. She lifted a hand to grab his tie. He hadn’t answered, and by the dip of his head, she didn’t think he had any intention to. Her eyes fell closed in preparation for a kiss that didn’t come.

His voice was a breath against her throat. “Why did you request my presence in the daytime, darling?”

Fluttering open, her eyes met his. She didn’t have an answer and felt like that should be obvious enough by her lack of preparation. He’d won. He’d shown up when she thought he most certainly wouldn’t. She should’ve sent him away by now.

His free hand came to the curve of her waist, holding her gently, fingers subtly tucking themselves between her blouse and her pencil skirt. She pulled on his tie, drawing him even closer. His nose skimmed the gentle curve of her jaw as his head tilted to keep from touching her with his lips.

“I’m so smitten, I couldn’t wait any longer to see you precious face.”

It made him chuckle, a sound she was relieved to hear. “I’m flattered.”

“You don’t sound terribly surprised.”

His grip on her waist tightened, his fingers slipping deeper under her shirt. “You’re not the first client to profess feelings for me. It’s to be expected, considering.”

He spoke through a smile, and it made her smile in return. She wasn’t fraternizing with a coworker or client of her own, no. She was alone with a friend right now. Which was much more terrifying, in a way.

“Considering?”

He tilted his head the other way, bringing his mouth closer to hers. Her eyes grew wider while his became lidded, gazing down at her carefully. She could almost feel his lips brush hers when he spoke. No, not his lips, just the air between them.

“How easy it would be.”

His lips parted, giving her a peek of his teeth and tongue. He was inviting it, the bastard. Or the idea of it, at least. Unfair. Reprehensible. She arched her head away, looking past him to a short stack of papers on her desk. An idea striking her, she gave his tie one last tug before letting go.

“You’re going to be quiet and listen.”

He turned as she stepped around him. “I’m already listening.”

She picked up the collated papers, flipping through them to one of the topmost pages. “Yet you’re not being quiet.”

Another chuckle came from him, and she couldn’t describe how satisfying it was to hear each time. Before she could face him, he stepped closer, his hands returning to her waist. His fingers were much less subtle in the way they dug themselves underneath her top this time. The soft leather of his gloves caressing her skin gave her pause.

She swallowed, relaxing back against him. The documents curled slightly in her hands as they tightened. Clearing her throat, she ignored the excitement that sparked at one of his hands loosening her blouse from its tuck in her skirt.

Like she had on their first meeting, she began to read to him. Rather than a speech, this was a long set of new procedures she’d been working on for weeks. They hadn’t been approved or introduced to her team yet, and she felt them unready.

Ignis was, of course, no help whatsoever, mapping out her body in long, slow sweeps of his large hands. He took off his gloves three pages in, and she paused, silent at the loss of his touch. Her shirt inappropriately opened, her bra unhooked and loose, she looked over her shoulder to see him quickly ripping one of the gloves away with his teeth.

He arched his eyebrows, his green eyes bearing down on her. “Don’t stop; I’m captivated.”

She rolled her eyes and her face warmed. Flipping onto the next page, she eased again when his hands rounded her sides, diving in shamelessly to tuck themselves between her breasts and her bra.

“Warm,” he hummed, dropping his chin to her shoulder. His fingers pinched and played with her nipples, soft touches that easily distracted. He was taking far too much enjoyment out of this, but she found herself excited even further by the fact. This was what he’d chosen to do with her lack of specific direction? Did he realize he was enjoying himself, or was this simply another layer of the show he put on for her each time they met?

One of his hands left her chest, sliding down her back to her thigh. Rougher than before, he gripped the lower hem of her skirt and hiked it up. Her breath caught in the middle of a sentence. The air was suddenly quiet and cold as it kissed her bare skin. She hadn’t gotten the chance to buy new tights after he’d torn through every pair she owned, and now it felt, preposterously, as if it had all happened by design. The tips of his fingers dug into her tender flesh, the skirt too tight to properly lift without biting into her thighs as well.

“Legs together,” he breathed against her neck.

She listened, the stack of papers in her hands slowly lowering as her legs came together. He pulled at her skirt again, hiking it up further. His hand slid over her again, this time toying with her pantyline.

“Now, apart.”

The orders were soft, underlain by his presence pressed fully at her back.

Again, she followed direction. The papers went to the desk, her hands planting themselves on the surface for balance. He urged her thighs apart with wandering fingers, which found her already, shamefully wet.

When he chuckled this time, she felt it on her shoulder blades, coming directly from deep in his chest. His fingers circled her, teasing through her panties. She arched at the contact, her shoulders lifting and pressing into him.

Then, the phone on her desk began to ring. She was startled by how cacophonous it sounded in her office, set against nothing more than their heavy breaths. Ignis’ fingers slowed to a stop, his hands remaining in place. Both unmoving, they listened to it ring again with a sudden tenseness.

She reached for the phone on the third ring, then thought better of it. Her compromising position wouldn’t be seen by the person calling her, but they’d realize something was off the moment she accidentally let a moan escape because of Ignis’ attention. Best to let it go to voicemail.

Ignis’ hold loosened, and she looked over her shoulder to see him staring down at her desk. Probably at the phone that continued to ring. She stood straighter when he stepped back, rounding on him to ask him why he’d stopped. It was only a phone call. The machine beeped just as she opened her mouth, and a familiar voice broke into the room.

“Lunafreya, your assistant informed me you were in your office,” Ravus said, sounding immediately tired. “It appears I’ve been misinformed. As usual.”

Ignis arched his eyebrows as he looked from the phone to Luna. She rolled her own eyes, her hands self consciously going to her back to fasten her bra into place. Neither of them spoke while Ravus went on.

“I’ve called to discuss the meeting with that awful family next week. You know I’ve no admiration for that man or his father, but mother is insisting I be in attendance.”

Like ice being slipped into her shirt, a chill shot directly down her spine. The meeting! How on Eos could she have forgotten _ that _ impending atrocity?

“If he so much as snarks, I will voice my opinion firmly. I care not what mother thinks,” Ravus continued as Luna began to scramble for the phone. “If my sister is to be marri—”

She ripped the phone from the receiver, and it hurt with how hard she pressed it against her ear. “Brother, hello.”

Ignis crossed his arms and leaned on her desk. She ignored his curious look, switching the phone from one ear to the other.

Ravus sighed on the line. “So you were there. Good, I shall air my grievances in real time. Or am I interrupting your work?”

“You are, yes.” She latched onto the excuse immediately. Her free hand held her open shirt together pointlessly. “Can I call you back after?”

He was silent for a short stretch. “After what?”

She could feel how wide her eyes were, discomfort prickling at her. “Later. I meant later, Ravus.”

After a huffy goodbye, he hung up. Her sigh in relief was heavy, punctuated by the _ clunk _ of the phone back into its receiver. The meeting was so much sooner than she realized. Which meant the wedding wasn’t far off, either.

She sent a slow look to Ignis. That had been so close. Her home, her workplace, her family— he didn’t need to know about the wedding that loomed in the distance, as well. Especially when she continued to know nothing of him. Looking down, she worked at fully closing her blouse, her fingers pinching at the buttons harder than before.

“No longer interested in creating an _ after _ for which to call him?”

“No.”

Ignis uncrossed his arms and pushed off from her desk. “Rather disappointing.”

She couldn’t look at him, instead focusing on pulling down her skirt. “There’s nothing less arousing than my brother’s voice.”

He almost laughed. It was a quiet sound that made her warm enough to face him. He smiled at her, stretching his fingers freshly covered in leather. She didn’t return the smile; she couldn’t.

If he minded that, there was no sign of it. “Should I arrive per usual tonight?”

The shake of her head was uncertain and slow. She wanted him to come, if only to check on the bruises she’d seen on him for the past week. They would yellow only to be replaced by new, darker marks that increased her worry. He said nothing of them but had to know that it was eating at her. Their head-to-head bearing for stoicism was unmatched, apparently.

“Come tomorrow evening,” she said, then chewed on her lower lip in thought before continuing. “I have a favor to ask.”

He adjusted his tie, an eyebrow quirking. “Hm?”

“I’d like to be your only client. For a short time.”

His hands lowered to his sides, his head tilting. “Why?”

_ Because someone is hurting you, and I can't stand it. Because the possibility of my wedding happening within the month is all too real. Because said marriage will take me to Insomnia, far from here and from you. Because I’m not ready. _

“I’m selfish.” She brushed a loose lock of hair behind an ear. “Seeing you here has made me want you on call. I’ll pay you more for your time.”

He shook his head before she’d even finished. “I can’t have a sole client.”

“Is that another self-imposed rule?”

The question was mostly rhetorical, but he answered with a serious nod. Right. It was worth a shot, but she didn't want to be pushy. No point in arguing. She went to her window, peering through the blinds to make sure the space outside her office was still clear. Her assistant’s desk remained empty. Good.

She left the window to unlock the door and glance back at him. He was a wall of absurdly specific rules, skilled touches, and mystery. Quite a shame she would never get the chance to figure him out.


	16. Pegging

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to the first hard kink of the story... 30k words in.

“I need full transparency on your comfort levels before we move forward.”

Ignis sat on the edge of her bed, his shirt open, trousers undone, and feet bare. “You know my comfort is of no importance.”

Luna frowned sharply at him. “Yes, it is.”

He appeared slightly nonplussed. “Should I be worried about what you have in store? Another work-related bit of literature?”

There was a black mesh bag in her hands, weighty and solid in its contents. He glanced between it and her face, his expression growing more curious by the second.

“I’ve heard—” She swallowed and heat began to burn her face. “It has come to my attention that you enjoy the company of… people. Regardless of gender. Correct?”

Ignis stared at her, unblinking despite the growing mix of confusion and curiosity. “That is true, but I’m remiss to know why that is important.”

She pulled at the ties on the bag to loosen them, a hand dipping into the mesh to withdraw something soft. Something silicon. Averting her eyes, she lifted it for him to see. Her face was aflame.

“I would like to use this to—” Clearing her throat, she pushed through. “I’m deeply curious, and I’d like your explicit consent to this, please.”

Ignis didn’t immediately answer, so she made herself look at him. His eyebrows were arched high on his face, mouth open in a small gape. She couldn’t assess if this was a good or bad reaction.

“Ignis, if this is beyond your—”

“Stop fretting.” He waved her off far too casually, a smirk coming to his face. “Of course I’ll help sate your curiosity, darling.”

“I’ll pay you a premium,” she quickly added, gripping the toy harder in hand.

She was so nervous about everything happening here. It wasn’t a lie that she was curious. Somewhere along the line, she’d considered that Noctis may enjoy this. He was too reserved to admit, even to her, where his sexuality precisely lay. But if their marriage was to work, she’d have to lean into her curiosities rather than away.

She’d long accepted Prompto’s involvement, but she wasn’t going to sit idly by every time they made love. They were going to do the poly thing. Very modern and chic. She was going to be loved by two people. Even if it wasn’t quite the kind of love she wished for. What could be better than that?

Ignis disturbed her thoughts, coming to a stand to ease his shirt off his broad shoulders. “Do you always believe more payment justifies the assumed strangeness of each request?”

Lowering the toy (a cock that big, however fake, shouldn’t be that close to her face for that long; it was indecent), she rolled a shrug over delicate shoulders. “Money is the justification for all of it.”

He draped his shirt over an arm, paused in folding it to put his free hand on his hip. His physique was so… gods, she would never not enjoy watching him undress. Bruises still blotted his skin, although they were lighter, none looking fresh. The relief she felt was enough to encourage a sigh out of her.

Again, he drew her attention away from her thoughts on their situation and his unbelievable body by speaking up. “You’re willing to part with a large dividend just to give _ me _ pleasure? I admit, I fail to understand your logic.”

Luna blinked, a sudden layer of defensiveness coming to her. “This isn’t a first. People pay things greater than money to display power over others every day, sexual or otherwise.”

Ignis’ smirk weakened, and he turned toward the bed to put his shirt down. “I won’t accept payment for this.”

She stepped toward him, awkwardly holding the toy and the mesh bag in her hands. “I understand. I feared it was too much to request.”

He shook his head, facing her again while pulling off his gloves. “No, I’m intrigued. It simply needs to be platonic, or my comfort is compromised.”

Again, she blinked in confusion. Platonic? He couldn’t be serious. “You mean platonic sex; you’re more comfortable with that? But you’re an escort.”

He nodded. “Both are true, yes.”

“Is this yet another rule?”

His hands bare, he stretched an arm behind his head, the hand of his other touching an elbow to broaden the stretch. He was going through the motions as if this conversation wasn’t strange in the least. “Not a rule, but it applies here. You said my comfort levels needed to be clear. I’m acquiescing, Luna.”

It was catching up to her slowly, realization hitting her a touch late. “You don’t usually receive.”

By the return of his smirk, she knew she’d guessed correctly. “I don’t perform such an intimate act with anyone but a friend.”

“So you _ will _ do it.” She wasn’t trying to sound so relieved. “Because we’re friends.”

Ignis threw his gloves onto the bed, suddenly careless as he stepped toward her. She stilled at the way he looked down at her, the edges of that ever-present smirk on his face softening.

“Because it’s you.”

⁂

Her hands were shaky, steadied when he took them into his own.

“You’re alright, darling.”

“Am I?”

His grip tightened. “Quite.”

She swallowed thickly. “Are _ you _ alright?”

Ignis gave her a long look. One such look a man being penetrated shouldn’t be making. Never, ever, _ ever _ had she been so nervous as she was now. The last thing she wanted to do was hurt him, and no number of informational articles and specific pornography could’ve prepared her for the real situation.

If it wasn’t the lacy edges of the sturdy strap-on tickling her or the surprisingly sensual act of applying lube to all of his proper places, it was his shuddering form on the bed that served to make her think this was beyond her depth.

“Luna, look at me.” His voice was breathy, and she realized she’d closed her eyes at some point after asking him. He led one of her hands to his thigh. “Hold me there. This is splendid, but it would feel even better if you’d treat this less like an experiment.”

She bit her lower lip and nodded, following him in the placement of her hands. He vocalized when she needed it, which was constantly. _ Touch here. Easy, love. That’s perfect. _

“Unlikely that you’ll n-need the entirety of—” A sharp breath left him, his back arching off the bed. “Th-there.”

She paused and devoured the sight of him. One of his hands clutched at her bedsheets, the other gripping one of her own tightly. Eyes closed, mouth open, he gasped for breath. She moved her hips, shifting back before pressing forward again. It drew a deep sound out of him.

Confidence sparked, and she began to revel in the noises he made, in the stretch of his broad chest with every breathy moan. His length was hard, flush against him and beading with precum. Her free hand gripped it, sliding over the shaft to match the slow, steady speed of their bodies meeting. Moments away from asking if he’d like it harder or faster, his hand gripped hers tighter, and he came, spilling onto her hand and his stomach.

His hand left the sheets, forearm resting over his eyes. The air was all heavy breaths and the creak of her bed. She wasn’t sure what to do. Pull out now? If so, should it be quickly or slowly? She didn’t move, instead waiting for his direction while watching his comedown. It was lovely, his flushed skin and unfocused eyes that met hers when he lifted his arm.

His hand reached up, catching at her nape unexpectedly. He drew her forward, rising at his shoulders to what was alarmingly close to a kiss. Except his mouth met her neck instead, his head tilting at the last moment.

She untangled her fingers from his to brush a hand over his hair. It was so sweaty, as if he’d been the one to do all of the work. “Alright, dear?”

He dropped back and let her go. “Marvelous, darling.”

She knew it was no joke, recognizing the satisfied look on his face. Pride swelled in her, and she began to ease away from him. She wasn’t going to get any direction from him from this point, she realized. He stretched out on her bed when she came to a stand.

“I particularly enjoy this side of you,” she said, grabbing a hand towel from her armchair. Ignis had been right in saying she’d need it.

He cracked his eyes open, his smile especially pleased. “At your mercy?”

She fought a laugh while cleaning herself off. “You’re like a cat, lounging after an especially arduous hunt.”

He laughed freely and lightly. Possibly in embarrassment. Because his hands lifted to cover his face. His voice came through muffled, a charming restraint about it. “Did this satisfy your curiosity?”

She tossed his own towel onto him. “Very much so. Thank you.”

The room grew quiet as she focused on changing. With the strap off and her house robe on, she sent one last curious glance at Ignis’ still form resting on her bed. That had been… different, and it was making him act differently, as well. She couldn't say she didn't enjoy it (both the act and his lingering), but it made worry bloom somewhere deep.

“Don’t become accustomed to this sort of affair.”

“Mm. Wouldn’t dream of it.” He draped the towel over his waning arousal after wiping his stomach off. “I’m too frightened by you.”

That gave her pause, and she stopped on her way to the bathroom to ask, “Why is that?”

He sat up, his expression still at ease. “I’ve now taken a cock before you have, in all our time together. No one else has such power.”

It wasn’t the answer she expected. With Ignis, though, nothing ever was. No response forthcoming, she went on to the bathroom. The floor tiles were cold on her feet, and the light felt sharp when she switched it on. Putting her hands on either side of her sink, she looked at her reflection and wondered if there would be any painless way out of this.

Whatever this was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ignis is a gentle-handed power bottom.


	17. Pinned Down

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mostly plot for this one, boys.

They were meeting the Caelums for dinner in a restaurant on what Ravus called _ neutral ground. _ Because this was apparently akin to a war for him. Luna rolled her eyes every time he swore under his breath, which was so often, she was likely to lose her sight altogether.

“Don’t be so impatient,” she said, leaning toward him to speak low enough that their mother wouldn’t hear.

He didn’t have the same sense of discretion, scoffing loudly. “We’re always made to wait for them. I consider myself lucky they haven’t a daughter for mother to _ introduce _ me to.”

Luna stopped herself from responding, pinching her lips between her teeth when their mother sent Ravus a broad smile.

“I would never limit you in such a way,” Sylva said, reaching across Luna to touch Ravus’ hand. His frown weakened in response. “Claustra’s niece should be of age soon. Just in time for you to settle down.”

He tore his hand away, his jaw working as he averted his gaze from them both. Luna wanted to speak up in his defense. In defense of them both, really. Whatever Ravus had, and oh did he have _ something _with Aranea, would never be acknowledged by their mother. For that very reason, she knew her own reservations would fall on deaf ears like so many other ‘trivial’ issues previously had.

Best to just sit and bear it. Any semblance of control there was to be felt about her place in life was entirely fictitious.

The wait for the Caelums wasn’t as long as Ravus liked to rant over, but it was enough for her to mentally tally off everything Noctis had told her on the phone the day before. Always brief, either out of bashfulness or his natural propensity for wanting to only speak when he thought it worth opening his mouth, he gave her a heads up on what and who to expect. To keep it as painless as possible.

He and his father were to be accompanied by his personal guard (a precaution adopted by the Caelums when Regis began dealings in… less savory means of money acquisition) and his financial advisor, who was to manage the household funds once she and Noctis married. It was sure to be a colorful cast, most of whom she didn’t think needed to be there (much like Ravus, who couldn’t be taken anywhere without acting foolishly, it seemed).

Despite everything, she was excited to see Noctis again.

Alight with sudden warmth, she stood at the sight of her old friend approaching the table only minutes later. He wore a smile and a suit, and stood taller than she remembered. She couldn’t help putting a hand on his head after hugging him.

“Have you always been this handsome?”

His smile grew, his eyes avoiding hers. “Luna…”

She lowered her hand to cover her mouth and hold back a laugh. Still boyish even with his much stronger jaw. She couldn’t wait to talk to him without the others around and truly catch up with one another.

Greeting Regis was like meeting a distant relative who remembered you far better than you remembered them. He walked with a cane now, and was aided into a chair by a large bulk of a man who introduced himself as Gladiolus (“but call me Gladio,” he’d said) in passing.

“Iggy’s probably arguing with the valet,” Noctis said, taking the seat next to her. “He does this every time he leaves the car with someone else.”

“Separation anxiety,” Gladio intoned in a knowing way.

Luna nodded her head, but she didn’t know what they were talking about. The financial advisor, she supposed. He’s the only one who—

“Pardon my tardiness, I had a much needed talk with the man at the entrance.”

Luna’s attention caught at the voice of the newcomer. Her gaze snapped up to meet familiar green eyes behind unfamiliar glasses. Ignis paused, his hand slowing to a stop in its draw of the chair away from the table. The hesitation was fleeting, and he was in his seat a moment later. Directly across from her. Why was that the only remaining open seat? What the bloody hell was _ happening _ here?

“Oh, this is quite a surprise,” her mother said, pulling her attention away. She put a hand over Luna’s and smiled. “I had no idea this had been your intention all along. Getting to know your household staff prior to the wedding. Brilliant thinking, Lunafreya.”

Luna began to sputter, except she _ couldn’t. _ Not in front of her mother. Sputtering, much like fretting, being intensely vexed, and any of the many other things Ignis has made her feel, were things Luna simply _ didn’t do. _ So she reached for her glass of water and took a large drink of it, closing her eyes tightly with the hope that this wasn’t actually happening.

Oh, but it was.

She cracked her eyes open and put her glass down in time to see Ignis raise a gloved hand to adjust his spectacles. Her first thought was to compliment them. They were fetching, and she couldn’t recall ever seeing him wear them before. Rather than do that incredibly inappropriate thing, she looked to Regis and put on a smile.

Gladio arched a brow, leaning forward to look past Noctis to the man in question. “Iggy, you’ve already met?”

Luna’s gaze shifted from him to Ignis, who nodded. His lips were pinched, and when their eyes met, a frown formed on his otherwise stoic face. It contrasted sharply with how adorable she found the nickname _ Iggy. _

Noctis opened his mouth, then closed it with a shake of his head. Luna didn’t know what to say herself. Stuck between her mother, who now spoke with Regis about setting official wedding plans, and her brother, whose irritation was palpable, she felt sick beyond belief.

⁂

The children were let out to play, so to speak, after her mother and Regis left the restaurant together. Ignis had offered to drive them, but had been solidly rejected. Now he sat behind the wheel of a luxury car, making tight turns around city corners toward Luna’s home. He’d made a point to ask for the address on the way out of the restaurant, which had made Ravus snort.

Luna thanked the gods her brother had chosen to part ways there.

Hands clasped awkwardly in her lap, she avoided Ignis’ gaze from the passenger seat. Gladio leaned forward, pressing into the back of her chair as he spoke.

“How’d you two meet?”

Luna’s shoulders rose defensively. “Work.”

At the same moment, Ignis tilted his head toward her and said, “A party.”

They locked eyes for a moment, then his returned to the road ahead. His frown grew. Troubling, all of this. She turned in her seat uncomfortably to look back at the bodyguard.

“A party at my workplace. Ignis—”

“Delivered food,” Ignis interrupted. “You’re aware of my hobbies, Gladio. It’s a side venture.”

Gladio laughed, but Luna didn’t know what could be so funny. “Always working.”

“What can I say?” Ignis’ grip tightened on the steering wheel. “I could hardly be penniless all these years waiting for Noct’s marriage to finally begin.”

Noctis nudged the back of Ignis’ seat with a foot. It was such a familiar gesture, Luna felt vastly out of place. It was still hard to swallow that these men knew each other at all, let alone be as close as they appeared. The pieces were coming together for her as they spoke, but it was doing nothing to alleviate her discomfort.

“You didn’t have to stay in Tenebrae.” Noctis smiled, looking out the window. “You could’ve moved to Insomnia and worked for me all this time.”

“A bachelor doesn’t require a personal financial advisor.”

“I know plenty who do.”

“Men who also need others to tie their own shoes for them, I’m sure.”

Luna stared between them, taken by the way Ignis almost smiled.

“You’re an accountant,” she said, not realizing she’d spoken aloud until Ignis looked over to her.

“Among other things.”

Her eyebrows met in confusion. Why hadn’t he ever told her this, even in passing? Why hadn’t he decided to just _ be _an accountant rather than— the other thing?

“Oh, shit.” Noctis’ voice cut through her thoughts. “Specs, detour to the hotel and drop me off.”

Gladio laughed again. “Is shortcake bored hiding in your room?”

Noctis typed something out on his phone, then shoved it into a pocket. “What do you think?”

“I think,” Ignis said, his voice suddenly sharper. “You shouldn’t have brought your boyfriend with you when negotiating the details of your marriage to another person.”

Luna felt herself perk up. “Prompto’s here?”

Ignis looked at her again, then looked away. “You know Prompto? Of course you do.”

She blinked. “Prompto is a lovely person. I introduced them to one another.”

“Of course you did.”

She stared a hole into his temple. “Of course?”

“Of course. You seem on top of everything.”

“Everything but for _ you,_” she countered. “An accountant with a catering side business? _ Among other things, _ you say. Preposterous.”

She didn’t realize she’d lifted her hands in frustration until she heard Gladio chuckling from the backseat. Dropping them to her lap, she sighed. No doubt that must’ve seemed very odd. By Ignis’ earlier misdirection, it was apparent that neither Noctis nor Gladio knew of his other profession. And she wasn’t one to spill secrets that weren’t her own.

So she crossed her arms and spent the rest of the ride to the Leville in silence.

At least, she tried.

“Don’t like each other?” Gladio asked, sounding as if he could laugh again any moment.

“On the contrary,” Ignis said before she could even open her mouth. “Luna and I are friends.”

“Good friends,” she added. Out of both spite and what she felt was bare honesty.

“The best, you could say.”

“I _ would _ say, dear Ignis.”

“Would you, though?”

“Only my best friend would call me _ darling _ on occasion.”

“Perhaps it’s ironic.”

“Was it ironic when you put your hands on my—”

“Alright, Noct,” Ignis cut her off. “We’ve arrived.”

Ignis didn’t seem to want her to have the last word. Or any word that would implicate them. She wasn’t even sure how it had come to this. His snark was so sudden after the long silence during dinner. She didn’t know if she was more disturbed by his attitude or the fact that she’d never wanted to kiss him more.

⁂

With Noctis and Gladio dropped off, Luna found herself sitting in the car alone. With Ignis. Precisely where she didn’t want to be, but knew was an inevitability. The ride to her place was silent. When he parked outside, she made no move to leave. They needed to talk about this. About everything.

“Who are you?” she blurted, looking at him with her hands tangled in her lap. “Did you accept my initial approach because you knew I was marrying Noctis?”

“If you recall, I didn’t know who you were until you told me.”

“Duplicity. I wouldn’t know if you were lying right to my face.”

“To what benefit?” He looked at her sharply, and the glasses only seemed to make it worse. “To bed the fiancée of my dearest friend?”

“Dearest, is it?” Her voice was thick with disbelief. “I fail to understand how you could know one another from countries apart. I’ve known Noctis since we were children, and I’ve never heard of you.”

He rolled his eyes, and it made her want to grab his collar and shake him or— or _ something. _ “As have I. He’s reserved, so my knowledge of you has been limited to mere mentions of _ another friend from Tenebrae. _ I couldn’t have guessed it was the Oracle’s daughter.”

This wasn’t a surprise to her; Noctis hardly gave her details on anything as it was. Good to know he was equally distant with everyone. She looked out the window, noticing the cloudy sky growing darker. They needed to talk about this properly, preferably over tea to settle her nerves.

“Come inside. It’s going to rain.”

He began to say something, likely a protest, but she was already stepping out of the car. She looked back once after unlocking her door to see him walking toward her stoop with that frown he’d favored all day.

Pryna and Umbra greeted her with excitement in the foyer. She bent with a smile to pet them, comforted by their presence. As if they knew that her life had turned upside down since she’d last seen them only hours ago. She played with their ears while Ignis closed the door behind her. He took her by surprise by kneeling down next to her. Both dogs turned to him, nuzzling into his open hands. Fickle things.

Ignis spoke quietly, his gaze trained downward. “Why is it so rare that I see these two?”

She was able to regain Umbra’s attention, but Pryna was wiggling in excitement between Ignis’ gloved hands. “I put them in their room when you visit.”

“They have their own room.” He almost sounded amused. “That’s unnecessary.”

“I can do what I want with my own spare room.”

“Putting them away when I’m here, I meant.” He looked up to meet her eyes, tilting his head toward the kitchen. “You intend for us to speak over tea, I assume?”

It caught her off guard how well he seemed to know. She nodded and came to a stand, but he caught her by the hand on his own way up.

“There’s no need,” he said, his grip tightening as she turned to him. “This must come to an end. Unquestionably.”

She nodded again; he was right. There was no good outcome in continuing this affair. It could hardly be called that, anyway, given how it hadn’t deepened into anything more than a handful of physical situations brought on by the exchange of money. Impersonal.

Aside from the platonic moments, but those were so few, they hardly counted. Besides, they _ were _ friends, and Ignis had made it clear he didn’t equate physical intimacy with romance. So, there. No affair to even end. It didn’t matter how many mental hoops Luna had to jump through to reach that conclusion.

“Earlier, you said you were atop everything but me.” He stepped toward her and lowered his voice the nearer he became. “I didn’t want you to know my identity for too many reasons to count. Now, I find myself shameful enough to wish I’d allowed you on top of me before it was too late.”

She stepped back in response to his closeness, but it backed her into the foyer table. He was being too honest, and she had nowhere to go to avoid it. “Ignis…”

He held her hand against the table, leaning down to press into her. Her breaths became shallow, her eyes falling to his mouth.

“I’d intended to come here after dinner to end our arrangement, but even that has been taken from me.”

She couldn’t look away from the movement of his lips as he spoke. His words registered, and she agreed. She’d planned to say goodbye to him tonight, too. But she couldn’t form a response, too distracted by his presence being so terribly close.

He leaned further in, his breath hitting her neck just before his mouth made contact. Her free hand lifted to grip his shoulder. It encouraged the touch, almost desperately. With his teeth grazing her skin, she shuddered, trapped between him and the table.

She rolled her head back, inviting him in. He focused on a single spot with his teeth and tongue. Seconds stretched into minutes, the air broken only by the heaviness of her breath. The place on her throat was wet and sore when he tilted his head back. She didn’t realize she’d closed her eyes until they were opening to meet his.

“This hasn’t been one of my finer moments.” His hold on her tightened for the barest flash before he let go and backed away completely. “I wish for nothing more than for this to end.”

She wilted at the loss of him, slumping against the table for support. Umbra and Pryna circled her feet, and she suddenly remembered they were there, nudging them both for attention. Bending to pet them with one hand, she brought her other hand to her neck, to cover the place where he’d likely left a mark.

“If that's so, I invite you to leave,” she said, unable to look at him. What he’d said cut her, and though she didn’t understand why, she was ready for it to be over.

“Luna—”

“Lunafreya,” she cut him off. Moisture began to build in her eyes, but she made sure not to let it show in her voice. “Full name from now on.”

“Of course.”

_ Of course. _ She wanted him to leave. Blinking at the tears forming in the corners of her eyes, she almost voiced this.

He didn’t need another prompt, it seemed. Through her increasingly blurry vision, she watched his designer shoes step around her toward the door. His farewell was too quiet to hear over the chill wind brought in when he opened the door.

Once alone, she let herself relax. Tears fell, and it made as much sense as anything else had all day. Which was to say, none at all. She’d known this was coming even prior to the meeting; she'd _known_ the goodbye was on the horizon. Righting herself, she removed her shoes and let the waterworks continue. No point in fighting it. In fact, it would make things easier to repress later.

Without thinking too deeply on the fact, she picked up her laptop on the way to her bed. She settled in and began a search, one she felt long overdue. Marrying a man she’d have to share with another. Living in a household with one of the only men she’d ever let touch her in an intimate way, that man _ not being _ her husband. She was on the fast track for a theatrical drama, and she wanted no part of it.

To hell with her mother’s expectations. When the time came, she was going to Galahd.


	18. Monster

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for referenced physical violence and a pov change.

“Just like old times.”

The words ran through gritted teeth, punctuated by a grunt. Sweat lined Gladio’s brow, and Ignis couldn’t help but roll his eyes. Were the old times to mean the scant couple of years he spent in Insomnia the decade prior? He and Gladio knew one another very well after so many visits throughout the years, but the physical aspect, the fighting, had rarely been a part of it.

Once upon a time, Gladio had been hopeful that Ignis would become another body guard. Gladio had convinced him to train with him during his time with the Caelums. Ignis has become strong and lithe, and he’d maintained it when living in Tenebrae. And while Ignis _ would _ do anything to protect Noctis, if need be, he had other people he needed to care for. One specific person, rather, who needed him to remain strong.

“Feeling nostalgic?” He chuckled and closed his eyes. Arching back, he stretched with mild relief at the end of their impromptu training session. He would be a touch sore but no worse off than some of his more energetic clients left him. “That’s unlike you, Gladio.”

In the years since Ignis had remained in Tenebrae, the most enduring practice between them had been lifting weights or wasting several hours getting competitive over racquetball. To be training again was a surprise, but not without welcome. Ignis needed strength now more than ever.

“Unlike me, huh. You think so?” Gladio’s broad grin wasn’t especially comforting. “What about you?”

Ignis eased out of his stretch, his head coming to a tilt. He had an idea of what the other man was attempting to get at, but he wouldn’t take the bait. “Hm, you mean the bruises? I’ve taken a lover recently who enjoys it… rough. I assume you understand.”

Gladio rolled his eyes. “Lunafreya doesn’t look like the type to leave marks.”

Ignis wouldn’t let himself tense. If only Gladio knew, he thought. Luna didn’t look like the type to do any of the things she’d done with him. She was capable of so much more than she appeared. Had taken him down avenues they would never venture into together again.

Gladio obviously thought himself clever. He was, but Ignis wasn’t going to give him the pleasure of knowing. But playing dumb would only implicate things more. It would suggest there was something to hide when there wasn’t. Not anymore.

“I wouldn’t know,” Ignis said, brushing fingers through his hair to push it back out of his eyes. “She doesn’t discuss her sex life with me.”

Gladio snorted. “Right.”

“Perhaps she doesn’t have one, considering her impending marriage.”

“Perhaps,” Gladio mocked. “She’s sleeping with the family advisor because her fiance is gay.”

“Is Noct gay?” Ignis rolled his shoulders and met Gladio’s gaze. Deflecting and daring him to point it out.

The larger man’s expression fell flat. “He’d never tell us either way.”

Ignis agreed. Noctis was the epitome of private. Likely because he didn’t know the answer himself. Labels had their uses, but if it could be avoided, Noct would find a way. Ignis felt much the same in regard to certain aspects of his own life.

Such as Luna and what they may or may not have had for the past several weeks— wait, had it been months now? Gods.

“Iggy…”

He was drawn out of his thoughts, and looked at Gladio with mild confusion. Gladio was grinning all over again. Oh, no.

“Gladio, if you—”

“Just admit it.”

“Admit to what exact—”

“You and Lunafreya.”

“Luna and I are frie—”

“Iggy, I get it,” Gladio cut him off, this time louder. It made Ignis pause, his arms crossed in front of him, glare on his face. The layer of defense had Gladio smiling harder. “It’s gonna be weird. Living in the estate together, knowing you’ve slept with the lady of the house.”

“We haven’t.” He loosened a hand and lifted it to point a finger upward. That needed to be made clear. They _ hadn’t. _ But they almost had. So many times. And Ignis would’ve been lying to himself if he said he wouldn’t be tempted in the future. He’d been honest when telling Luna he wanted it to be over. He wasn’t ashamed of what he’d done, but of what he’d want to do when faced with her every day.

“You can tell me, y’know,” Gladio said, bending to pick up a towel. He wiped at his neck, his smile gone. And it… worked to ease his friend. Ignis trusted him, and this was something Gladio had already assumed.

“In confidence?”

Gladio nodded and frowned, likely to fight another grin. Ignis ignored it because he wanted to get it off his chest, this feeling, whatever it was that he’d been left with when he’d last spoken to Luna.

“We had an understanding. I would spend evenings with her, and she would…” He looked away, thinking about the situation and realizing he couldn’t be as truthful as he wanted. “She would show me kindness.”

“Is that what you’re calling it?”

Sharp eyes meeting the return of Gladio’s smile, Ignis loosened his arms to hitch hands on his hips. He was attempting to divulge a touch of humility here. “Luna and I never had relat—”

Ah, wait. That would’ve been a lie, and Gladio would know it. He tried again. “I’ve shared many things with Luna. But I don't know her in the way Noctis will once they marry.”

Ignis deflated somewhat, his arms falling to his sides. There was no tactful way to say this. “You cannot tell anyone.”

Gladio threw the towel onto a shoulder. “Never even came to mind.”

“I’m serious, Gladio. This can’t reach Regis.”

Gladio’s smile waned. “I get it.”

Ignis stared at him, to make sure he truly did understand.

Gladio wasn’t having it, turning away to keep from being analyzed. He pulled the towel from his shoulder and walked toward the exit. “Better not get caught calling her Luna, or everyone’s gonna figure out you’re in love with her.”

That made Ignis start. What an absurd assumption. He began after Gladio, mouth opening to correct him. “I’ll have you know—”

Gladio gripped the handle of the door and looked over his shoulder. “Don’t get all worked up. Your secret is safe with me.”

Ignis was left there in the empty room, slightly baffled by the turn the conversation had taken toward the end. In love? He lifted a hand to brush hair out of his face, fighting the urge to latch on and pull as hard as he could. He should’ve kept quiet; no weight had been lifted from his chest like he’d hoped.

Gladio wouldn’t say anything, as promised, but he was barreling toward the most incorrect and presumptive conclusion without thought. And Ignis didn’t know how it was going to affect him down the line. He needed to focus and keep moving forward.

In love. Ridiculous.

⁂

He shouldn’t have trained that morning. Dirt stung at his eyes, no amount of blinking able to wash it away despite the free flow of tears. The heel of a shoe, blunt and heavy, pressed against his jaw, his cheek. Far from the first time. Unlikely to be the last.

“Attempting to make one final mockery of me.” The voice was candied, spoken like a lover scorned rather than a tormentor. “Your body must be exhausted from so much use. Dear Ignis, give it a proper rest.”

He bared his teeth and groaned against the pressure applied to his jaw. Being forced flat on his face had been anticipated. So had being tread upon. But no amount of repetition could ever quell the humiliation.

“I won’t.”

Above him, the man tisked and the pressure increased. Ignis’ jaw loosened, bending and feeling as if it were close to cracking. He wasn’t sure how he’d hide the bruises this time, but the thought was fleeting between the rising pain and the need to escape.

“It’s futile, boy.” The man leaned down, his voice closer although Ignis couldn’t make him out through the burning at his eyes. “You haven’t enough. One loss after another, as quickly as you move through lovers.”

There was no use in arguing that he had no lovers. Only clients. Every gil that made its way into his hands found a home hidden in his flat or went directly to this _ benefactor _ rather than lining his pockets. He had no lovers, and he had no personal accounts to show for it. His goal was in sight, though. That was all that mattered.

“Once you’re gone, he’s mine,” the man continued, finally lifting his foot. The relief at Ignis’ head was momentary, replaced by a burst of pain at his back. The man struck him until he curled inward.

“Acception, Ignis. You need to decide whether you’ll abandon him or continue to fail me.” The next time the man spoke, it was increasingly distant. He was leaving. Finally. “I’ve a feeling I already know the answer. Ta ta.”

Ignis worked his jaw, sitting up to lift shaky hands to his face. Eyes aflame, he rubbed at them gently and controlled his breathing. One breath, he reminded himself of who he was. Two breaths, he recalled his purpose. On three, he cracked his eyes open and looked at the scratched surface of his watch.

An hour until he was due to meet someone. Plenty of time. He rubbed at his face on his way to a stand. Dusting off his free hand, he withdrew his phone from a pocket to check for anything from Noctis, or gods forbid, Gladio. He’d cancelled lunch with them for this, and didn’t want to have to explain why his face must look the way it certainly will the next time they meet.

He paused at an unexpected message sitting in his inbox.

_ Regardless of how you feel, I have no regrets. _

Staring at it for a stretch, he felt his eyes water again. The dirt continued to make them burn, and he blinked the moisture away. The message was gone with a swipe, Luna’s words dismissed as his throat tightened. This was so senseless; he had no time for it. Regrets? He had but one, and it had absolutely nothing to do with her.

⁂

His existence consisted of nothing more than sweat and gasping breaths. She writhed, arms and legs and moans within his grasp. He squeezed his eyes shut and listened to her begging.

“Oh, Ebony— please, _ more._”

He gripped her waist harder and jerked her back forcefully against him. She was so wet, he couldn’t feel a thing. It was a point of both pride and disgust that he could draw such arousal from a person. He appeased with every touch, his mind static as he moved through the motions.

Each muscle screamed for rest, sore from training, from fighting, from abuse. He pushed forward, his fingers delving into the woman’s hair to catch a tight, tangled grip. She hissed an affirmation and tilted her head back with the arch of her body. His skin stuck to and pulled against hers, and he fucked harder, every thrust punctuated by a low grunt.

His body tightened, clenching as hard as his closed eyes. He tried to picture her, straying from his usual thoughts during work. Stock prices and the emptiness of his refrigerator became her silhouette. The ivory of her inner thighs. The charming, uneven laugh she’d spill out while drunk.

There was no friction between himself and the client, only the slick of her creating wet, sloppy noise that fell on deaf ears. His hand at her hip slipped downward to tease her into coming first. Rote. Memorized. When she clenched around him, he anticipated another moan of his false name, but she keened back instead.

His eyes opened in surprise, and the pale blonde of her hair was a shock to his system. Not the same but so terribly close that, before he realized it, he came. It was wrenched out of him. Sudden and painful.

“Ebony,” she gasped, resting back against him. “You’re… incredible.”

He steadied himself, lowering her to the bed, knees digging into the mattress and tangling in the sheets. “Only for you, kitten.”

Parting from her, he slung his legs over the edge of the bed, his feet planting on the floor. Off went the soiled condom, slippery but quickly tied with a secure little knot. Ignis stood and crossed the room to drop it into a bin. He thought better of it and went into the washroom to discard it.

He told himself it was a better place for hotel staff to later dispose of the mess, but he really just wanted a moment alone. His nerve endings were still raw. Resting hands against the counter, he leaned forward and looked at himself in the mirror.

After all the trouble to not be hit in the face during the fight, he still came away with a glaring red mark along one of his cheeks, stretching from jaw to temple. He hoped it wouldn’t bruise.

Closing his eyes, he made himself think positively. He was so wonderfully close. Mere weeks from freedom. Possibly even days, if miracles were true. He had to press forward until then. Respite waited for him in Insomnia. For them both, if he wasn’t as worthless as he so often felt.

“Ebony?”

He opened his eyes and pushed away from the sink to leave the bathroom. His client sat on the edge of the bed, rifling through her rather large purse in her lap. While she dug, he began to dress. By the time he was pulling his trousers back on, she withdrew a short stack of money with a neat band around its middle holding it together.

“As promised.” She lifted it with a smile, still relaxed from what they’d done. “Daddy was very happy with the outcome.”

Ignis took it from her before dressing any further. A quick flip through to make sure every note was accounted for, he tucked it into a pocket of his jacket, then began to put on his shirt. With this, he wouldn’t need to fight anymore. No fights, and one— only one more client.

As his fingers buttoned his collar, he looked down at this one. She was pretty, stranger in her youth than her affluence. All clients were well off, but few were near his age. She was also blonde, and very sweet in the way she’d wanted to hold hands at dinner before coming up to the room.

“I couldn’t watch it,” she said, dropping her purse to the floor and laying back. “I didn’t want to see you lose before our date. But daddy’s happy.”

Ignis nodded. He didn’t care who was happy so long as he was compensated. He sat to put on his shoes, and she began to burrow herself under the blankets. He watched her struggle, unsurprised by the oddity of a spoiled, rich woman. It almost put a smile on his face.

“Daddy usually tucks me in after?”

All he could see was her blue eyes and the mess of her pale hair pooling on the pillows. Finally dressed, he came to a stand and walked to the bed. He didn’t normally… Sticking around for so long wasn’t his style. Nor was performing caring acts after the fact.

She blew hair out of her face impatiently and stared up at him. It didn’t so much remind him of Luna than it served to make him miss her. He gave in and pulled at the sheets and blankets until the woman was settled. A little strange, but not the strangest.

He left the hotel with the weight of the money burning a brilliant hole in his pocket. One more client. Preferably one that didn’t vaguely remind him of what he couldn't have.

He scrolled through his messages on his way home, ready to sleep like he never had before. Past the slew of insults from the person who owned him, beyond Gladio's irritating and presumptuous texts, he stopped to soak in her words again. To enjoy them even though he didn't deserve it.

_ Regardless of how you feel, I have no regrets. _

His only regret regarding her in his life—and it wasn’t so much a regret as a selfish lamentation—was that he hadn't allowed himself to be monstrous enough to take her when he'd had the opportunity. She'd made him feel like something more than a tool, and it had moved him, for a time. He read the words again before deleting the message entirely and shoving his phone back into his pocket.

So close to freedom, yet he'd never felt this defeated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope everyone is staying safe out there <3


	19. Choking

The restaurant was full of chatter, lunch well underway when Luna arrived. After telling the host she could find her coworkers herself, she entered the larger chamber with mild trepidation. Her eyes darted to her usual table to find it occupied by strangers. Not there, then. But of course not, her boss didn’t know where she usually entertained business partners beyond the name of this place on her expense reports.

She peered about, uncertain as to why her boss had requested this luncheon anyway. Among the bodies, talk, and laughter, she froze when she spotted something unexpected. Ignis, sitting with an older gentleman, was looking down at a menu in his hand. He smiled, saying something to the other man that she couldn’t make out through the white noise of the room. The man said something that made Ignis’ smile disappear. His back straightened, his shoulders rolling back while his brow pinched.

Luna looked between them, and before she could think better of it, walked toward their table. The way Ignis nodded at everything the man seemed to say, the sharpness of his frown, it made her wonder. Was _ this _ the person who’d been hurting him? It was a hard concept to swallow, that Ignis would dine with his abuser in broad daylight as if it were no trouble.

Neither man noticed her until she stopped next to their table. She hadn’t seen him until she’d made him leave her home days before. He’d ignored her message in between, so it was with a fair amount of brashness she usually reserved for the workplace that she spoke before either of them could open their mouths.

“Good afternoon, Ebony.”

Ignis’ eyes widened, followed by a nearly imperceptible shake of his head. He looked from her to the man and back. “Lunafreya.”

She clasped her hands together in front of her and looked at the elder man. The words left her mouth without thought or hesitation, a deep well of confusing feelings in her driving it forward. “Are you having a lovely date, sir?”

He blinked, then smiled. “My day has been lovely, yes. Thank you, miss.”

Ignis placed his menu on the table and slid his chair back. “Excuse me, uncle.”

Luna’s pale eyebrows arched high. Uncle?

Ignis came to a stand, his mouth pinching with a much more severe frown. With a curt wave of his hand, he said, “Uncle, this is Lunafreya, Noctis’ bride.” His eyes met hers a moment later, sharp and narrowed. “Lunafreya, my uncle. Now that you’ve met, I would like to have a word.”

Ignis walked from the table, leaving her standing there next to his uncle, who smiled up at her. The pit of feelings in her welled deeper, burning harshly. Anger replaced with embarrassment. She made herself smile in return and hoped it came off as polite rather than simply baring her teeth. This was so unlike her, but ever since she’d made the decision to leave this life behind for Galahd, anything she did no longer had a lasting purpose.

“It’s nice meeting you,” he said. “Do try to keep Ignis distracted long enough for me to order a dessert before the meal.”

She nodded but said nothing. What even was this interaction? Pointing a thumb in Ignis’ direction, she broadened her smile and walked away.

Ignis stood in an open space near the entrance, his arms crossed, those charming spectacles on his face. She wasn’t used to them yet, and she found herself staring more intently at his eyes because of it. It should’ve been a crime, how he could make anything look good. More than.

As she stopped in front of him, she reminded herself of where her gall originated. The plane ticket she’d printed, tucked safely in her luggage at home. Soon, she’d never see Ignis again. She didn’t want to leave her life behind, but she would. She had no other choice if she wished for any chance at happiness.

Confidence renewed, she crossed her own arms. An array of unrelated thoughts crowded the forefront of her mind. The first being that Ignis looked unfairly attractive right now. Shoving that aside, she thought about how he hadn’t ever answered her message. Unsurprising, but it still hurt. Which reminded her, just _ who _ was it hurting him, and had that been put to an end yet? It wasn’t her place to know or attempt to fix this, especially now that she was planning to disappear, but, like all of these mangled thoughts, it kept eating at her.

She settled on, “Your uncle is charming.”

Ignis inhaled deeply and steadied his gaze on hers. “You can’t approach me in public, addressing me by that name.”

“I thought you were on a date.”

“With my uncle?”

“I didn’t _ know—_” Her shoulders rose, her arms crossing tighter at her chest. “Contrary to what you may think, I don’t actually know a thing about you.”

Ignis’ eyes flitted between her own, and his frown slackened. “You know more than most.”

“If that’s true…” She found it hard to keep eye contact, her gaze darting down to his collar. He was wearing a tie, much like he had at the meeting before. “You must be without any substance.”

“Lunafreya.” He loosened his arms to his sides, his hands hitching at his hips. As if he were ready to lecture her. “You know nothing because that is all I am.”

Her shoulders slackened. She was caught off guard by his apparent honesty. He couldn’t have actually believed that. Surely. She bit her lip as she thought on what to say; she had to say _ something. _ She couldn’t leave Ignis behind knowing he thought so lowly of himself. Whatever she could’ve said was disrupted by the appearance of another unexpected face.

“Ravus?”

Her brother stopped and looked between them. He held a briefcase, his hair pulled back in a careful, professional ‘do. Aranea had mentioned they came here for meals most days, but he appeared to be working. His gaze stopped on Ignis, ignoring Luna’s confused greeting.

“You’re certain you’ve met the requirements this time?”

Ignis nodded. “The contract is as good as void.”

Luna stood there as Ignis turned away to walk back to his table with Ravus on his heel. That was rude, even for her brother. Indignation swelled in her chest. She took a step toward them to follow, but a hand caught her arm at the elbow. Startled, she stopped to see one of her coworkers sending her a smile.

“Glad you made it. We’re in a private room,” they said, nodding in the opposite direction of Ignis’ table. “This way.”

She let them lead her off, sending a baffled look toward Ravus and Ignis until she couldn’t see them anymore.

⁂

The luncheon was a surprise farewell celebration organized by her office. She didn’t feel appropriately touched at the thought that had gone into it, too distracted by whatever could’ve been happening outside the private room. It was difficult to hold a conversation with her boss, to the point that they gave her a concerned look.

“If you’re having second thoughts about the marriage and the move, you’ll still have a place here.”

Luna stared at them, thoughts of her career so far off. She didn’t know what she would do when she arrived to Galahd. More worry was owed to that uncertainty, but she wasn’t having it. Not now that she’d gotten a glimpse of something that had apparently been happening right under her nose.

What were Ignis and her brother up to?

“Oh, thank you, but I’m fine,” she said, slipping on a smile. “I only need to use the restroom. Excuse me.”

Out of the private room, her eyes swept the larger space for the men in question. She found them at Ignis’ table, plates pushed aside and Ravus’ briefcase open. She couldn’t very well go directly to them. They’d clamp right up and tell her to leave, in all likelihood. So she rounded their table at a distance, wishing she could hear what they were saying.

Lost in concentration, she bumped into someone, who stumbled a couple steps before she caught them by the arm. Forcing calm over sheepishness, she met the eyes of Ignis’ uncle and let go of his arm. He blinked several times, then smiled at her in that same patient way he had earlier.

“Oh, Lunafreya. You wouldn’t happen to be on your way to the washroom?” His eyes shifted about after leaving hers, his smile slowly fading.

Luna softened, touching his arm again more gently this time. “Yes. If you’d escort me, sir, I’d appreciate it.”

She led the way, sparing one last glance toward Ignis and Ravus, who didn’t seem to notice or care that Ignis’ Uncle was apparently roaming lost through the restaurant. Separating from Uncle at the entrances to the restrooms, she went into the ladies’ and washed her hands. A look over her appearance to straighten out a few hairs that had fallen out of place was really all she needed.

The wait for Uncle wasn’t worryingly long, and she justified her awkward stand near the restrooms with the thought that the man would need help back to his table. He appeared surprised to see her when he finally emerged, although not without a smile.

“Lunafreya,” he said, so softly. Like she was his own niece rather than a woman he’d only met today. “Ignis has been looking forward to your wedding day.”

She walked with him, arching her brows. “Why’s that, sir?”

He seemed to think. “Happiness for you and Noctis. He’s a good kid. I know he’ll serve you well.”

His wording left her discomforted. They grew closer to the table, and in an effort to make the trip a touch longer, she led him around a few tables unnecessarily. This may’ve been her only chance for an answer. “Sir, I’m curious. What contract is Ignis meeting my brother about right now?”

Uncle’s smile waned, and he had to think for longer this time. There were only so many tables she could lead him past before it became obvious they were only spiralling around the room, closer to their destination. “Ignis is a good kid.”

The repetition of the statement did nothing for her. Ignis being good was subjective, and he certainly wasn’t a kid. The words felt less like those of a loving relative, more that Uncle didn’t know what the contract pertained to or didn’t wish to tell her if he did.

They were at the table before she could ask anything more. There wouldn’t have been need; Uncle had no answers to give. She looked between Ignis and Ravus, who stared back in turn, saying nothing. That was it, then. It was none of her business.

A server stopped next to her, leaning forward and placing a decorated piece of cake in front of Uncle. He brightened at the sight, and Luna couldn’t help the smile that came to her own face. So he was able to get his dessert.

“Lunafreya,” Ravus spoke up with a pointed look.

She sighed through her nose, stamping down on her irritation to bend a little and place a hand on Uncle’s shoulder. “Have a lovely day, sir. If you should grow bored with these two, I’m in the private room across the way.”

Uncle chuckled but said nothing, apparently intent to tuck in. She made her way back to the lunch party, hating how that had gone. Ignis was more of a closed book than ever. A book locked in a vault, really. The contract was obviously off-limits.

But she still longed to know, genuinely, who’d been hurting him. As someone who’d passed time with him every day for so many months, the sight of his injuries kept her up for many of those nights toward the end of their arrangement. Now she was meant to never know? To never have the chance to make them taste justice? She’d never wanted to leverage her power as the Oracle’s daughter until Ignis had appeared, and he wasn’t even allowing her that.

She stopped midway through the restaurant and turned on her heel. At the very least, she deserved an answer to this. A name or an assurance that Ignis was no longer working with them. He claimed to have no substance, and she would accept that despite the sour taste it left in her mouth. If he gave her this.

Steps away from their table again, she was startled by a sudden commotion. Ignis and Ravus were talking over documents, their food left aside. Uncle coughed and struggled to breathe, his eyes squeezed shut. Luna rushed to him while the table fell quiet. Jerking his chair back, she forced Uncle to stand and began abdominal thrusts.

Was this right? She couldn’t have been sure. The last training on it had been over a year prior, and she’d never actually had to do it on a person. Her mind raced, but she remained calm, gripping tightly and going through the manoeuvre until cake flew from his mouth. His wheezing breath signaled that she could stop, so she let him go and lowered him back into his seat.

His eyes were watery when she rounded the chair to check on him. She reached for his glass of water, making sure he had a firm hold on it before backing away.

“Thank you,” Ignis said, catching her attention. She turned to find him standing, the napkin that had been draped across his lap thrown to the table. “But I had it under control.”

Luna couldn’t stop the scoff from escaping her. “Aside from nearly choking, he was wandering around earlier, utterly lost.” She crossed her arms, tilting her chin up to better meet his eyes. “Like substance, you are a stranger to the concept of control, Ignis.”

The perfect arches of his eyebrows met in a furrow. “Making baseless assumptions about others per usual, then?”

“Are you _ truly _ picking a fight with me right now?” She wanted to raise her voice but knew better not to. This couldn’t become a scene anymore than it already was. “Because I saved your uncle’s life?”

“I’m calling you out on your meddling. You wouldn’t have been near our table if you would simply respect the boundary _ you _ created, Lunafreya.”

She stalled then because he was right. She wasn’t above admitting that, but it didn’t change her reason for returning to his table for what had better have been the final time. She was beginning to feel suffocated in this room, no matter how large and familiar it was.

“I’ve only come to ask you about one thing.” Stepping closer, she lowered her arms and her voice. Her irritation melted, giving way to exasperation, one of the many unfamiliar feelings he’d made her experience since they’d first met. “I can’t stop thinking about the bruises. It makes me ill, Ignis.”

His eyes widened behind his glasses, his lips parting. For a moment, it seemed like he would speak. If not to give her an answer, at least to comfort or express appreciation for her worry. The moment passed silently, though, and his lips met in a renewed frown.

“Mr. Scientia,” Ravus cut through.

Luna startled at his voice, having forgotten his presence entirely. She backed away from Ignis and looked at her brother, who peered between them before settling on Ignis.

“I’ll look through everything you’ve provided, but I feel I should tell you it’s unlikely to work.”

Ignis rolled his shoulders and turned to the other man. “Please. Be thorough. I wouldn’t trust this to anyone else.”

Ravus nodded, and sent a blanket farewell to everyone at the table. It brought her attention back to Uncle, who was finishing off the last of his cake as if the bad experience with a certain bite had never occurred. Luna felt Ignis’ presence next to her, radiating discomfort. She’d made her point, and it hadn’t worked. So that was, at last, that.

She bid Uncle a good day for the second time, and left Ignis without a word. The rest of her lunch party passed in a blur of smiling coworkers and her assistant telling _ delightful _ stories of the awkward moments she’d experienced at the mercy of Luna as of late. Of blindfolds and rearranged items on her desk and the lingering smell of a man’s cologne in her office.

By mid afternoon, she felt palpable relief when finally leaving the restaurant altogether. Despite her better judgement, she checked her messages for any sign of regret from Ignis. Two messages, one from Noctis, the other from Ravus, waited there instead. Noct’s was a question of if she needed help boxing her things for the move. He was volunteering not himself but Gladio and Ignis. She smiled and sent a resounding _ no thank you. _

Ravus, though, left a more unexpected message.

_ Come to mine tonight, for dinner and answers. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm totally abusing the use of "choking" in this one, but it was needed to drive the messy plot along.  
This is the _final_ non-smut chapter until the very end, so expect spicier things from now on lol  
Thanks for reading <3


End file.
